It lay instead deep in my soul
    where the heart can barely
    breathe or see.
And through these hills
    for years and miles,
    the spirit I sought
    was really in me.
It wasn't in the otter's den,
It wasn't in the rushing wind.
It wasn't in the thrush's nest
    or the streams along my trail.

And so the peace I came to find
    follows the paths
    of trees and birds
Both feather and branch sing the song
    and my heart will always
    hear the words.
It isn't where you see nature,
    It's where and how you choose
    to keep her
That lets you listen to her voice
    in the streams along your trail.