(A Clogyrnach)
Ripples whisper through fields of grass At nightfall when no footsteps pass Over this bare hill Where I linger still—
But I will stay for mass.
Nature’s cathedral boasts no wall; No stained glass windows grace the hall. No vaulted ceiling, No bronze bells pealing— But kneeling, I am tall.
Tonight I will not cross the stream Where darkness splinters heaven’s gleam. Yet light fills this place; I see glory’s grace— The Lord’s face in a dream.
~Meadowlark Botanical Gardens, Vienna, Virginia