Church This Sunday

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




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