Blessings

photo of 1950's Kelowna

by Don Collier

Sister Forest,

when I stand under your soft-sighing branches,

breathe in the scent of cedar,

walk on pine needles soft,

I am infused with a deep green peacefulness,

feel more blessed than in any cathedral.

I breathe in Spirit,

the breath of the ancient ones.

I breathe out gratitude, beatitude,

send a prayer skyward to the Holy One,

who created forest, shining silver sea,

the earth and sky,

and you and me.

In memory I hear bells ringing 

at evening benediction,

in a small white church so many years ago,

the sweet smell of incense,

as the censor clanks to and fro,

the look of light refracted through stained glass,

those long-gone days we thought

would for forever last.

Send gratitude and praise, my friends,

for these soft, sweet-scented 

end-of-summer days,

when blessings fall upon our hearts

like gentle rain -

these days that will not,

will not ever

come again.

for Sumana's prompt at Midweek Motif: Blessings