||TEMPLE HILL BEFORE THIS LAND WAS MINE Wilma Despain Centerfield, Utah Professional Poetry Division Honorable Mention Hidden there, with covering tugged over by time. Holding in darkened womb, white, 'oolite' stone. This prophet, in shield and tongue of 'biblical' days. Did speak much truth, in majesty and thundered tone! This secret, formed before I was, eons ago, A temple would rise, all this he told, about Those who would give their all, and come, from Far off lands, and unencumbered take it out! They came, built schools and bridges, spanning tide Long years before these words were mine to frame. Traveling no marked trail, no measured mile, nothing Behind or ahead, all lost to mad mob's scorching flame! The toilers of the field arose and walked each day Their tools, their skills and willing hearts, each brought. With prayers and hefty arms, there rose this 'edifice', "This place" where miracles of "tested faith" were wrought! All reigned in busy industry, disquietude, as Shouts rang, "What will we find in this grey hill?" The sound of work and persevering was everywhere, Divine council and purpose drew them nearer still. Oh thou, who brought their tired feet, from Homes of grace, rich lands, influence known, I hurry on to tread the paths well laid for me-- By heavy wheel and 'life blood' of my own! An ancient warrior, with proud form and stance, With mantle flowing, with 'glory countenance!' He knew 'this place' with first, keen prophet's glance And surely, God gave hearing, to his utterance! "I come like wind and like wind I go," Here in this 'saved place', I see God's kingdom grow!" Nephite Moroni, you came, we surely know and see, that You did reveal this gift for us, long centuries ago! Here, hearts still fill in sanctifying hour, in the "Divinely commissioned class rooms", dearly bought, serene. Here organ swells paeans of praise, where heads bow low. And God is pleased, as he views this sacred scene!