“Matins” by Timothy Whitworth

The forest stirs and sings
Matins, Lauds, Prime
creeping crawling flying things
with wings, whiskers, and webs,
that clamor, converse,
and warble aloft,
lonely toads croak.

A canopy of leaves high vaulted,
chants a mass
more majestic than Mozart.
A more devout Te Deum
cannot be composed.
or congregation comprised.

A mighty fortress is an oak,
from wind and rain assailing.
with lofty branches reaching high,
o'er elements prevailing.
The canopy cathedral like,
the tallest trunk its steeple:
a spire higher than any
made by people.