Silent Sunday

“Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.”
― Henry David Thoreau, Walden

heaven

Is this the splendor of heaven
I see,
where green pastures
reside in reveries,
and pearly skies
kiss tawny dunes
and seagulls glide
on still afternoons?

Will moments like this
be held in time,
to gaze on the bounty of earth sublime,
and if an ache
exists in me
I’ll set my feet
on sage green fields,
where wild geese call out to their mates,
in ceremonies of lavish grace…