Morning Services

Morning Services


Morning silence sweeps the age old haven
Broken only with things unheard by all save him
The whispery voices of days long past
Mingling with the soft murmurs of his mind

Shimmering daylight colors the long lost realm
Revealing the recipients of his reverence
Rustling leaves and green, green grass
Tiny creatures finding ground

In this place he finds the solace and succor
Those others seek in unseen gods and walls of gold
He has no need for dreams of heaven’s pearly gates
His rapture is here and now, in the midst of nature’s embrace