Alone on a Hill

Sitting high on a hill, looking out;
The world stands still all around.
Twinkling heavens call and shout;
Not a soul makes a sound.

Reaching out, a quiet word;
Though humming trees abound.
I find a free song - sing bird;
Not a thought, not a sound.

Noone notices, in despair;
Reaching out in a blank space.
You are surely unaware.
The prayer lifts, a certain care.

God hears when calling out;
The music sings to Him.
Angels lift, my spirit shouts,
Heavenly Father, fills me in.