I come to the countryside

I come to the countryside in an act

of exercising my right, my liberty

to push myself off the altar of busyness

do not tell me there is no religion in the city

the act of worship is vast

and here, among nature, I’m in awe

I walk with reverence onto the soft

altar of moss

I slowly lay myself out

each fingertip pressing against

what I feel but do not understand

a new hymn flows gently out

of my mouth, and the choir

of bees is loud

here, I am who I am