Friday

Nestled in a nice rock hammock, overhead some kinda wild blueberry, maybe a true huckleberry. I enjoy, and listen to lapping waves on rock.

Forgive me that I cannot kneel
And worship in this pew,
For I have knelt in western dawns,
When the stars were large and few,
And the only fonts God gave me were
The deep leaves filled with dew.

And so it is I worship best
With only the soft air
About me, and the sun's warm gold
Upon my brow and hair;
For then my very heart and soul
Mount upward in swift prayer.

- Ella Higginson


And, Benjamin Blue