Church was two counties on two wheels
Church was the silence of morning sunlight
Church was knowing Pastor Richie was at the pulpit as I passed
Church was hay up in the barn
Church was a butterfly down but twenty-five more flying
Church was green grass stretching into the hollers
Church was the songs of birds and new lyrics in my head
Church was the thought of my family at home
Church was the underside of leaves as the wind blew in rain clouds
Church was Rutledge Farm West and its many neighbors
Church was a man on a tractor taking time to wave
Church was knowing the daunting hill I turned on will later be conquered
Church was the creek bed that cut its way through the hills
Church was observing and reveling in the Lord’s work
©2017
Andrew Spradling 