Saturday, July 31, 2010

HYMN OF PRAISE

Wind whispers
through the canopy
like lake ripples
through the trees

Small leaves spiral
thick as raindrops,
pixies dancing
on the breeze

Sunlight consecrating trees-
almost, I hear an organ sound:
I, pilgrim and acolyte,
the golden forest
hallowed ground

Birch bark like ancient manuscript
writ by a gnarled and pointy hand
tells tales of olden times long-gone,
bygone days upon the land

Once again, the breeze-song swells,
upon the wind a hymn of praise:
to these blessed simple days,
these days we have,
a hymn of praise

18 comments:

  1. Just couldnt leave the gnarly logger on my front page, kids, way too embarrassing!:)

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  2. Praise to the tall tree
    for it has witnessed Dawn
    and offered it a tiny bud
    obeisance, to the breaking morn'

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  3. stunning image.
    I enjoy the beauty in your poem.

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  4. Thank you so much! I love the poem snippet above, it is beautiful........."it has witnessed dawn" and obeisance to the breaking morn - beautiful images.

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  5. I did look up Ruminations, Sherry and the Poets United page.

    Thanks

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  6. Hey Sherry. Thanks so much for stopping by and commenting on my poem! This one of yours is sweet, peaceful. It makes me feel good reading it. :-)

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  7. "Pilgrim and acolyte" --- beautifully chosen words, just as you have in the rest of this gorgeous poem!

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  8. such a beautiful hymn of praise - my favourite kind

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  9. Great sounds and textures... I especially like the fourth stanza.

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  10. I like this. It feels meditative to me. So much beauty to behold in nature.

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  11. So much beauty in nature and in simple living ~

    Lovely my dear ~

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  12. I really like
    "I, pilgrim and acolyte,
    the golden forest
    hallowed ground"

    ~Shawna
    rosemarymint.wordpress.com

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  13. Very spiritual, Sherry. I love it.
    K

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  14. I'm always happy to get the opportunity to read a piece from your archive i may otherwise have missed. i love your pieces inspired by the environment you so love.

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  15. the consecration of sunlight on trees, the way the earth, when one is silent and still and open, allows for a space of sacredness beyond words. Emily Dickinson wrote about this often. another reason to love her, and you. :)

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  16. Forest church, a holy place in the wilds, nicely done!

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  17. The best poetry is all about metaphor, and here your forest cathedral metaphor rings as true as a psalm.

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I so appreciate you taking the time to read and comment.
Thank you so much. I will be over to see you soon!