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 __Emily Dickinson, American poet (1830-1886) I think about Emily writing all her poems all her life, all unpublished until after her death.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.