Another draft for my Theological Aesthetics final project.
Sabbath
After Wendell Berry
I spent most of today
tramping through the woods.
I donned my down vest, old boots,
and woolly hat Mother made.
I hunted mushrooms.
Dug around roots and rotting stumps.
Kicked a path in fallen leaves,
watched my breath crystallize in the air.
Now, curled with a cup of hot tea
and a rattling radiator,
I hear church bells tolling for vespers.
I will go, but not yet.
No, it is still too soon.
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