Building a Cathedral
I feel them reach to speak to sky
Forming a steepled bell of birds call
I feel them bend to shelter thee
Leaning in to hear my body prayers
I feel them curve from behind me
Gracing my shoulder blades into wings
No church doors,
yet all paths lead me here
No stained glass,
yet all the dappled light raises my view here
No rows of pews,
yet entangled redwood roots soften my belly, weaken my knees as I become humbled here
The choir of western flycatchers, pacific wren, varied thrush sing through me
The silence of sorrel, fern, moss meditate with me
The language of Ancient Trees write poetry in me
On The Avenue of the Giants
hallowed ground grows a cathedral around me
As if constructed this Sunday morning just for me and yet my bones know
This time immemorial holds immortal court in service to infinite peace here
May All who enter remember
they are built holy, whole, enough
just as they are