This poem appeared in the "Forest Anthology" of The Poet in December 2021.
Forgive me, dear friends and family,
for not being at church this morning.
I was attending seven o’clock service
in the chapel of the woods.
Likely you haven’t heard of it –
it’s non-denominational. No pews,
no confessionals, no creeds outworn,
no baskets to take my money.
Don’t get me wrong – I love Jesus.
He is my guide and compass.
I see his face in the glittering stream,
his tears in the dew on the leaves.
I see his crucifixion in the slaughter
of boughs and bones on the forest crown,
and his resurrection in the bluebells
that rise from the loam of their decay.
My soul rejoices at the prospect of spring.
Is that not praise enough?