This shady place, shrouded in quiet
and the shushing of trees…
this cathedral of water-sounds
borne on leaves.
Here is worship–
in the wind–
bending carillon chimes
blowing clouds,
leaving blue.
I hear birdsong
as they raise their voices
in praise.
Echoing, answering–
“Do you hear Him?
Is He not wonderful,
our Creator God?”
I concur and continue to
catch the quiet cacophony–
an anthem to His presence–
without any words, save those
written in me.
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