How someone's job influences your muse

Without knowing it, someone has helped me out poetic slump. She may not be happy.

Religiously Free

For Anna

My cathedral is an open meadow;

Its roof is the crisp blue sky, its floor holds

Wild grasses, overgrown and baked by an August sun.

My clergy are grasshoppers and ants,

With cicada choirboys covering the silence

With everlasting joy.

My hymn is my own life,

Starting out quiet and slow,

Building gradually

Until I reach nirvana.

My god is my god,

Not your god,

Not your God.

My god cannot be shared,

For she is in me.

[copyright January 14, 2012]