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The Meadow

October 22, 2019

 

In a Sunday morning meadow,
the dewed grass bows to pray.
The sun is in its pulpit
to chase the clouds away.
Swallows swoop like angels
with gentle grace and ease,
as a chorus of heavenly birdsong
rises from the trees.
Bees commune on nectar
from the flowers growing wild,
while a cricket chants a homily
he eagerly compiled.
A snake slithers across the grass
to seek the promised sun,
who pours down its golden rays
to enlighten everyone.

 

Published on the Ancient Paths Facebook page May 4, 2019

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