Spiritual Poem about Nature

Commune With God

There is no better place to commune with God than in the forest. It is a cathedral of trees and quiet, where the world can no longer get in the way.

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The Voice In The Forest

Rick W. Cotton © more by Rick W. Cotton

Published by Family Friend Poems March 2021 with permission of the Author.

I heard a soft sound, like wind through the trees,
But there was no wind, for the air was still,
And the forest stood waiting, silent and strong,
Trees standing guard as they always will.

The voice kept calling me, calling my name
As I walked in peace through the still, cool green,
Wandering, wandering, into the deep
Where the silent deer walk, and the path is unseen.

Birds all above, singing their songs,
The rustle of leaves underneath every step,
And the sweet smell of pine, sweet perfume to me,
In the forest so deep, so purely kept.

"Who are you?" I asked, "Why call me?" I said,
But the voice said only, "Come closer, my child."
"I would speak with you, come," was the only reply,
Yet the peace grew stronger, there deep in the wild.

And at last, I stopped, for the voice then said,
"I am here, cease wandering," and I lifted my eyes
To a small, quiet clearing, where a fallen tree lay.
"Sit down," the voice said, in voice ancient and wise.

Many things we spoke of, the voice and I.
All the things my heart found too heavy for words
The voice and I spoke for hours, it seemed,
But the only sound made was the song of the birds.

"I understand, child. Let me take that from you.
You've carried it now for many a year."
And I felt the love like a blanket wrapped 'round,
And I felt myself, like a child, held dear.

"But, I am to blame, I have done all these things!"
"I know," said the voice, "but that means nothing now."
Then the love and the peace grew yet warmer still,
For the very life of me, I could never say how.

"Go in peace," said the voice, "you have miles to go."
As I smiled and turned to walk the green sod,
"I love you, my child." "I love you, too," I said.
The forest...my church...the voice...my God

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ABOUT THE POET:

Rick is often staring out the window at the color of the leaves, or the clouds, or the blue of the sky. He's a hopeless romantic, loves old movies and music, and special times. He cannot abide rap, liver and onions, reality TV, and shopping malls. Rick has a lovely wife, a fat cat, and a taste for BBQ.

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