Canopy of lacy cedar boughs
And garlands of greenest evergreen
Filter streaming sunlight
Like so many stained glass windows,
Creating a sacred space
For silent contemplation
On this cold December day.
Ochre-brown columns of pine
Soaring from clay-rich soil,
Gracing bluest-blue sky
With a halo of green
That encircles and invites me ponder
The depths of heaven’s hue.
Crushed carpet of needles
From a bygone season
Mingles with the scent of cedar,
Incense as real and as rich
As ever burned
In any sacred gilded-hall.
The silence of nature’s sanctuary,
Profound as anthem-choir
Delights my senses with
A spectacular display of symbolism
Until a woodpecker drills
A bit of whimsy into the scene,
Boring into his pantry
To feast upon a mid-day meal
On this short-lived winter day.
An abrupt but apt benediction this,
For just as the feathered and the flowering
Have their needs secured,
So the Creator of this grace-filled
Cathedral in the Woods
Nourishes my hungry soul
And sees that I am fed as well.
Bass Lake, California