In the Cathedral By Ron Porter
Against the cold,? ?the fire burns
slowly,? ?above,? ?heavens turn
the trees are clothed in shadows
like old monks in sleeping shrouds
Night creature choirs sing a chorus
all nature's aspects croon? ?"adore us."
And,? ?i sit in soft worship and wonder
deep within the cathedral of night.
Nor do I ever question if God is near
for night winds whisper I Am here.
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