Church of the Pines

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Church of the Pines

I bow my head
with love and awe today
for the Maker
and this mandala at play–
the colored sand,
the sleight of hand
that shapes,
then wipes it all away.

I bow to the sky,
seamless and blue,
the mystical sunlight
filtering through
my church in the pines
here by this creek
with rocks that can sing
and devas that speak
a secret language beyond sound
in praise of hallowed ground.

Gloria …………
in Excelsis Deo.

I bow my head with gratitude today
for everything that did
and didn’t come my way.
The hidden cost
of all I’ve lost,
and all I’ve gained, I gladly pay.

Here’s to this life,
eyes that can see,
a heart that can feel this reverie,
that can be slain by beauty or pain,
humbled and pummeled
like a stone by unknown streams,
tumbled and washed clean.

Gloria……..
in excelsis Deo.

Wasn’t I
the one who told you:
You can shake me
if you need to?

Today I praise the play
that I once panned,
this vast conspiracy
to force my hand,
the poker face of unseen grace
that leaves my mind
no place to land…

But here in my heart–
here I allow
the wafer and wine
of what is right now.
And I join the choir,
this baptismal creek
of rocks that can sing
and devas that speak
a secret language beyond sound
in praise of hallowed ground.

Gloria…………
in excelsis Deo

Gloria, Gloria, Gloria, Gloria