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| A Simple Woodland Church I am called to worship here by birds singing angel hymns, led to a pew, a fallen log, to await a service led by Him. My eyes go heavenward, as I gaze up the tall oak trees, nature's own cathedral spires, while fellow creatures wait with me. They are in their Sunday best, dressed in furs and feathers fine, clothed by the finest Designer, made and fitted by a hand divine. Then all is hushed and still, as we are bathed in His holy Light, and listen to His joyful sermon, that we are all forever in His sight. copyright 2001 Roland Ricker |
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