Karen Pruitt Fowler

‘Ere the ebb and tide doth flow,
Marsh grass yields to the breeze.
An’ the gull tips a wing humbly so,
Heading toward open seas.
The sunset, in that moment does glow.
Fall on your knees.

‘Ere the craggy cliffs doth loom,
Drawing gazes to the sky.
Barren ravines, swept by a broom,
An’ the canopy of night draws nigh.
Shadowed granite does hold this room.
Fall on your knees.

‘Ere vermillion moss doth blanket the ground,
Padded velvet as its floor.
Ancient timbers erected ‘round with
Arms flung to the heavens, evermore.
In reverence, none does make a sound.
Fall on your knees.

Fall on your knees,
For nature’s glory doth abound.
She’s in the hum of honeybees,
An’ in the bellow of a hound.
Feel her kiss in the ocean breeze,
See her grace as the gazelle bounds,
Hear her might as wind whips through trees.
Then, fall on your knees.