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St. Paul Woods
by Mike Gallimore (Age: 58)
copyright 01-04-2008


Age Rating: 10 to 127

 
Christmas falls on sparkling snow
Where I have come to pray;
For those who live in this thin wood
It’s just another day.

They look at me with wary eyes
And wonder why I’m here;
It’s something in this quiet wood
That always draws me near.

For sheltered in this peaceful place,
Beyond the reach of reason,
I hear the words that are for me
The meaning of the season.

It’s not about a savior king,
Or his nativity;
I long ago gave up the ghost
Of Christianity.

That doesn’t mean I don’t believe
In some divinity –
It lives, I think, in this small wood
And in you and me.

So I keep Christmas in my way;
It’s not difficult to do.
It’s just a prayer for this dear wood,
And those who live here, too.


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01-14-2008 Anthony Lane Stahlhut    

Faith is a strange thing. I believe in God, but not in a lot of preachers. When the love of money seems to overshadow the love of God, I don't understand anymore.They teach us, but do they listen to themselves. Your poem is very nice and I like the story a lot, Anthony
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