Morning Meditation in the Wood of God
And from the arching gilded lichen limb
Palmetto spread in fronds of praise
The Tibia flute parsed the morning hymn
as moss bearded seers in rhapsodie swayed
to the song of the ancient of days;
Hushed in the Gloria Patri wonder
the congregation of the understory:
Con Amore! in the wood winds he comes
as the canebrake trembles at the feet
of the blessed wild One.
Come freely to the tree of life
climb boldly to the azure heights
In the haven of the wood of God
where ne'er the proud dare trod.
No comments:
Post a Comment