The woodland is my church. I do not follow the way of books, or prayer. It’s a nice thing if you can find religion, or spirituality through teachings, but for me, I find god in the way of the woods. The sound of the stream, the dance of the woodpecker, the shadows casted by branches. This is the kingdom where animals roam, where wild flowers decorate the sunken moss, where age draws faces into the wild bark. If you hadn’t told me heaven comes after my parting, I’d say I’ve already been there, when I’ve visited the woodland.
kisses, and hugs,
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