I'll be waiting under tall evergreens
for you to come back to me.
Remember Feather River as it is.
I have been living all alone
in our small wooden home
trying to make new friends every day,
but they never stay for long.
The tea kettle is dry and everyone's gone home.
Here I am remembering Feather River like it was before you had gone.
I spend my days building life from lives before me.
Isn't that what we can only do bring Him glory?
I am praying with my hands and I am learning with these tools,
not earned but given to me to use until I'm old.
I have been waiting for seven dreary years for you to come home.
I spend all day convincing my mind you weren't a dream.
Darling, find time to write home to me.
Feather River, Lord, talk about dream.
and the smell of sage through my window floating in slow
and warm morning light greeting me isn't much, replacing your touch.