Unburdening
Hymns once rattled stained glass and stone built to house the faithful. In the middle of nowhere footprints ate grass, a biblical apocalypse growing dust where green once gathered. When hallelujahs failed to grow numbers in pews, failure’s eye stared into the sun without repentance for planting doom where the meadowlark once sang. Within the very echo of the last human leaving, bird, beast, and field gathered to redeem Eden from the curse of abandoned. Revival now speaks in seeds and prayer rows of growing. Butterflies are winged notes singing praises for summer. Crows own the pulpit, rainbows the baptistry. What man purloined; nature reclaimed. The tabernacle of Mother Earth grows stronger without walls. ©Susie Clevenger 2022 Earthweal Re-Wilding
