Beneath the Arizona sky so wide,
The Mission stands with quiet pride,
Its walls a whisper of days gone by,
Where light and shadow softly lie.

Golden rays through cactus lean,
Cast a glow on adobe’s sheen,
While shadows stretch, both cool and deep,
Dancing secrets they long to keep.

The bell tower watches from on high,
As light begins to softly die,
And dusk, with gentle fingers, paints
A world of dreams without restraints.