By David De Jong

Pillars of this open sanctuary
Old cottonwoods and maples raise the sky
The creek circles back for a better view
Giving meaning to a heavenward sigh

A distant red-head, drums a piercing beat
Calling for rev’rence as the anthems raise
Chickadee and meadowlark take their cue
Singing their chorus to this joyful praise

While the robin presents its shy reply
A red-wing black bird gives a rolling trill
New budded branches, play strings to the wind
And the blue jay calls for all to be still

Rippling water comforts old resting stones
Reverbing an ambience so superb
Words serve no purpose, simple inner groans
Speak more than incompetent verbal blurb

All creation clamors to its places
And in one accord take their knee to pray
Providing blessed assurance to this peace
As the sun returns for another day

While they present their Maker, grandeur praise
I stand in awe this grand sanctuary
And contemplate in a remorseful way
If I give God glory, as it should be

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