I sit at the edge of this field in the shadow of a church steeple. The voices of the faithful flow from open windows and I can imagine each head bowed in humble supplication. Their knees bent adoringly as dim candle light flickers from brass sconces.
I raise my face to the sun and with a choir of sparrows worship in the light of creation.
under the bright sun
all of creation sings praise
voices joined in glee
Today is Haibun Monday over at dVerse Poets Pub