"Arkansas" by George Stockard, father of Gertrude Carter Stockard
I cannot tell what makes me pine for those dear native hills of mine.
I cannot tell why clearer gleams the water of my mountain streams.
Nor why the earth and sky and air seem kindlier there than anywhere.
It must be 'cause by Nature's Law, they all belong to Arkansas.
Somehow the twilight's restful hour is fullest there of soothing power,
And from the day's soft afterglow, Heaven can't be very far, I know.
And when the moon beams over all it seems that I, from joy of soul,
Can almost reach and touch the hem of One who walked in Bethlehem.
Far out across the lordly sweep where blue domes in the moonlight sleep,
A twinkling light or tinkling bells mark where some rough, plain cotter dwells.
Knock at his door for rest or board, he meets you like a manor lord.
Feast with him once and you may boast you sat down with a princely host.
Good faith's a creed and love's a law in every home in Arkansas.
I love to sit there on the hill, when all the lights go out and still,
Yes, stiller than a tired breast, soothed into peace and perfect rest,
The world, a disillusioned waste, fills all my soul with visions vast,
And I climb up in Spirit land, among the stars, and understand,
Why every fleeting breath I draw seems sweetest here in Arkansas.
Arkansas became the 25th state to enter the Union on June 15, 1836. Arkansas' motto is "The People Rule" which reminds me of God's instruction to us at Creation, "Be fruitful and multiply! Fill the earth and rule over it!"
I LOVE Arkansas! I was born in Little Rock and in my very earliest years, I lived in Heber Springs. My grandparents lived outside Morrilton, and many of my childhood memories are of time spent on Petit Jean Mountain, Petit Jean State Park. I lived in Iowa (I also LOVE Iowa!) 10 years of my childhood (mostly DesMoines) and then moved back to Northwest Arkansas when I was 12. That was home until I moved to Hot Springs for massage school when I was 22, in 1995. I am still in Hot Springs!
When I was 17, I became friends with Gertrude Carter Stockard, who was one of my Mother's clients. (My Mother was an attorney.) Gertrude shared many wonderful things with me, and my favorite was a poem that her father, George, had written, simply called, "Arkansas". I immediately memorized it and have often recited it since then.
