The Green Places

I withdraw myself to
deserted places, and
pray to the Lord my God
beneath the trees and
sky with the leaves
keeping me company and
small birds on the wing
chirruping.
I am there with
him and he is there
with me, and I
need that space and time
apart from my fellow
man for they are
wearing to be within, this
adulterous generation, they
tire me so.  I long for
cool waters and mountain
snows, not the dry and
dusty deserts of the
cities that can
make the heart barren
and parch the soul to
ruin.  I seek
green places to
commune, where my
God can be heard,
his still small voice not
submerged in others' din,
for few out there
can truly hear, are
truly listening.  I like to
sit and stare at the
sky, and talk, until
by and by I am
filled with good things
and my soul is healed.
Only then am I ready to
wear-out my leather
sandals in the towns, when
I come down.

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