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

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Today is Haibun Monday over at dVerse Poets Pub

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