My Worship Is...

My worship is in the barefoot running
On an empty, forgotten beach;
In the blood red sunrise
And the starry night. 

My worship is in the still water
Of a sheltered, lost lake;
In the fading of the moon
And the glowing sun.

My worship is in the pearly tears
Of happiness and mourning;
In the laughter of a child
And the crying mother.

My worship is quiet, unheard,
Like a whisper or a heartbeat;
In the night I pray
And in the day I sing. 

The End

51 comments about this poem Feed