Sanctuary

Sunlight streams through a rainforest onto a rushing stream

Here stands a church that Nature built
From seed and sun and gentle rain,
With living walls of spreading oak
And thick pine carpets smoothly lain.

Wherein the Canticle of Praise
Assumes a sweeter, sacred note,
Beneath the leafy rooftop where
It rises from a thrush's throat.

Song Thrush, Turdus Philomelos, Bathing in Puddle, United Kingdom

Along the aisles of shadowed fern,
The soft responses of the wind.
To litanies of quiet peace
That fill the hearts of all within.

So is the forest, as of old,
A sanctuary for the soul!

Grace E. Easley

Blessings, Mimi