Some keep the Sabbath going to church;
I keep it staying at home,
With a bobolink for a chorister,
And an orchard for a dome.
Some keep the Sabbath in surplice;
I just wear my wings,
And instead of tolling the bell for church
Our little sexton sings.
God preaches,--a noted clergyman,--
And the sermon is never long;
So instead of getting to heaven at last,
I'm going all along!
"I believe the love of God may be taught not to seem like bears." __Emily Dickinson, American poet (1830-1886) I think about Emily writing all her poems all her life, all unpublished until after her death. A gentle soul yet, in a way, a quiet revolutionary against the status quo of her day.