The Sacred Grove

Sweep away the signs of
New development, let us
Lay down a circle of
Stones in the shape of
A sun-filled sanctuary
Built especially to hallow
An ancient land of oak,
Mournful cricket and ever
Spinning webs, transform
Ravines once abandoned to
Animal sadness into altars
Curved bright against prairie;
Raise stained glass windows
To reflect glory’s colors as
The weary body reminds
Again and again, sky blue
Earth is each soul’s holy,
One and only, spiritual home.