My Sanctuary

My sanctuary has thousands of birch leaves rustling softly,
Bird chatter,
And wind song.
My sanctuary has ancient apple trees,
Extending arms full of tiny green apples.
There are dappled pools of sunlight,
Flecked with black-eyed Susan, field daisies,
And tall grasses whose seed heads dance.

I do not need to pray in my sanctuary;
My sanctuary is a prayer,
of gratitude,
and wholeness,
and belonging.


Where ever you are, whatever the weather, I wish you sanctuary and belonging.