Feather Choir of Leaves

His church doesn’t have walls.
It’s bird song, railroad track,
face to the wind hallelujahs
sung to a congregation of trees.

He’s heard too much hell from pulpits,
too much stained-glass high horse,
to be comfortable trying to speak
to God through all that hot air.

He wants to be where he can soar,
not be glued to a pew where judgement
is quicksand, and sin confessing 
earns first chair in the choir.

©Susie Clevenger 2019


Carrie Van Horn said…
Nature is a beautiful cathedral of worship. I love every powerful line in this amazing poem Susie!
C. Sandlin said…
Lovely sense of praise in the outdoors :)
brudberg said…
I think in nature, you always have a cathedral and don't have to settle for a chapel
Nature is under-appreciated. Great poem, Susie!
indybev said…

I'm in tune with the philosophy of your poem, Susie. I've copied it to keep and re-read from time to time. It speaks to me!
Fireblossom said…
I'm with him! (and you!)
Margaret said…
and sin confessing gets the best seat in the choir! ha Amen
Love the idea of communing with God in nature, beautiful!