My church is in the hollow
where sunlight filters through
the canopy like beacons
highlighting leaves and bugs
and mushrooms. And where
birdcalls sing the chorus and
fill my heart with hallelujah.
Or on the ridge top where the
wind tickles my face and brushes
through my hair and I feel like I’m
top of the world looking at the
horizon of cascading hills.
It’s peace and reflection and
connection to my deepest primal
urges – knowing true sin is hiding
who you are and hating those who
are honest about themselves.