Some keep the Sabbath going to the Church
I keep it, staying at Home
With a Bobolink for a Chorister
And an Orchard, for a Dome
Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice
I just wear my Wings
And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church,
Our little Sexton sings.
God preaches, a noted Clergyman
And the sermon is never long,
So instead of getting to Heaven, at last
I’m going, all along. ~ Emily Dickinson
Mornings like this never fail to bring the words this poem that I loved since I was a young girl to mind. The beauty of the rising sun was rivaled by the sunset colors of the blueberry leaves all decked out in their fall colors.
And the tender green leaves of the Tom Thumb lettuce growing in a container on my deck made the morning feel more like a late spring day than a warm winter one.