Mt. Diablo
Sacred Mountain of Indian lore
Of stone primeval history speaks
Boulders rising from the ocean floor
Spirits of the Ancients guard your peaks
Hills cascade like tendrils to your feet
Rolling slopes and golden pastures sweep
Across the fields of acorn and wheat
Vistas of grazing cattle and sheep
Stately beacon from the plains afar
You guide the pilgrim from his sojourn
Framed by the heavens, the moon and star
For your gentle air his heart does yearn
Written by Jeanette Kermaninejad
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