THE HOLY CHURCH OF NATURE

THE HOLY CHURCH OF NATURE

 

I sit in the holy church of nature,

Listening to the incantations of

A choir of Sycamore leaves rustling

In pitch perfect harmony;

Fading to whispers as the sermon begins.

The Sunlit ceiling of mosaic cloud

Sprinkles light rain of holy water,

Baptising my boots in the

Living stream of consciousness

That trickles through the aisles of 

Wild grasses waving in adoration.

I lay myself down on the

Altar of earth as Bluebells

Break cover in celebration of

New beginnings; the Chestnut tree

Reflecting Birch bark silver

In its candles.

Woods echo with shotgun sound,

And the winged congregation takes flight.

                                                                                   

◄ LETS ALL GO BACK TO THE 50's

IMOGEN - 10 months old ►

Comments

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trevor homer

Sat 18th May 2019 16:31

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raypool

Fri 17th May 2019 19:44

If I'd written this I would be immensely proud. To have orchestrated such a list of similes is an achievement and is not done I am sure to impress but has the strain of a genuine inspiration at work. Every line effortlessly works and I have to say you never disappointment Trevor. I am quite bereft of inspiration at the moment so I enjoy seeing the real deal.

Ray

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