The smell of goat weed on a cool October morning

Shotguns and flashlights, my dad and me

He’d lead the way, to clear the spider webs

On down to the corps land north of Johnson Creek

 

Along the main trail, was an old oak tree

It stood like a tower through my 12 year old eyes

The roots forked just right, to make a couple of seats

And we’d sit together and watch the woods come alive

 

And the peace of God, that passes all understanding

Engulfs the morning, as the mockingbirds sing

You can feel His face, shining down upon us

Sitting in His presence, ‘neath the old oak tree

 

The woods are always changing, shaped by the storms

Each season would bring about something new

Underbrush would grow, where other trees had fallen

But the old oak tree remained steadfast and true

 

Its roots ran deep, to weather the drought

It stood tall and strong against the wind

It provided food and shelter for those that it held dear

I was proud to call that old tree my friend

 

And the peace of God, that passes all understanding

Engulfs the morning, as the mockingbirds sing

You can feel His face, shining down upon us

Sitting in His presence, ‘neath the old oak tree

 

My dad left this world way too soon

When I heard the news, I thought of that tree

The time we spent there, and the time we’d miss

And the mornings he’d share with my son and me.

 

So after the service, I took his ashes

And spread them out in his old root seat

And each October, I’m going to take my son

And we’ll all sit together, ‘neath the old oak tree

 

And the peace of God, that passes all understanding

Engulfs the morning, as the mockingbirds sing

You can feel his face, shining down upon us

Sitting in his presence, ‘neath the old oak tree

I can feel his presence, ‘neath the old oak tree