Sorry for Sunday

I went walking with the wind,

Blowing through the bowers,

Floating far afield,

Following the flowers.

I ran before the rain,

Skipped ahead of showers,

Played along the path,

Whiled away the hours.

I was climbing to the clifftops,

Traversing mountain towers,

Standing on the summit,

Praising nature’s powers.

So sorry for the Sunday

My wandering walk devoured;

I welcome words of worship

If found among the flowers.

my cathedral

My cathedral, green,
buttresses a deep blue southern sky;
my cardinal, red,
sings hymns that raise a host
of finches, gold.