Sacred

 

Coming back from my evening walk in the woods I paused to seek the animal who scurried into the brush.

Above, the oak branches shredded the slanted auburn sunlight, its trunk ancient strength.

Chirps, songs, and calls joined the crisp breeze as burgundy leaves clapped.

Filling my lungs with pumpkin spiced air I closed my eyes inhaling the sharp musty breeze, old leaves mingled with the last green autumn grass.

The sacred space tingled. My heart slowed to listen.

This place chose me, and I come to escape, pray, meditate.

If you can’t find me, this is where I’ll be.