Holy Joy
The land is laid out in quarter
sections here.
The road leads straight North.
From a hilltop the prairie
displays itself
In a huge flat expanse,
lifting the heart.
Toward the Northwest the
sun sets slowly,
The large ball hanging
orange, radiating pink
over the entire, wide,
cloudless sky.
By this sun we have seen
all day.
By it we have had the
light of life.
By it we are fed and take
strength.
The silos stand at rapt
attention,
Greeting their master with
a reflection.
O, Lord, you are glorious.
2 comments:
Beautiful!
Thank you, sweet Hildegard. It gave me great pleasure to write down. I stopped at the gas station for five minutes.
I ran it past an English professor, whom I argue with, and he said that he would have stopped at "rapt attention", but I really want the praise and worship in there, as the silver silos were gleaming...
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