Woodland Church

The scent of sandalwood 
                              and ginger
lingers in the rafters.
Sunlight spills its splendor
on the benches hewn by hand
and smoothed by wind.

An owl, the seeming master
of this domain, looks wise
and holy from his perch
high in the apse; the feathered
choir flits in and out with song,

Whether practice or performance
I could not ascertain, but every note
seemed perfect to my ear. 
I stood without disturbing, hesitant
to turn my back on such peace,

But Monday calls
                  with all its telephones
and tensions; the mundane world
of work reclaims my mind. Even as I
glare at the computer and  juggle
tasks from nine to five, birdsong,
the scent of sandalwood and ginger
linger soft   as balm.

2 thoughts on “Woodland Church

  1. Holding onto a simple peace amidst corporate chaos…I have been there. I love this, especially
    ‘An owl, the seeming master
    of this domain, looks wise
    and holy from his perch
    high in the apse; the feathered
    choir flits in and out with song,’

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