'When they ask to see your gods

your book of prayers

show them lines

drawn delicately with veins

on the underside of a bird's wing

tell them you believe 

in giant sycamores mottled 

and stark against a winter sky

and in nights so frozen

stars crack open spilling

streams of molten ice to earth

and tell them how you drink

a holy wine of honeysuckle

on a warm spring day

and or the softness

of your mother who never taught you

death was life's reward

but who believed in the earth

and the sun

and a million, million light years

of being'

-J.L.Stanley.

Via: http://sea-angels.blogspot.com/

      http://intothewoode.blogspot.com/

      http://paper-roads.blogspot.com/    (I have searched for information as to J.L.Stanley, writer, all I can find of her is:
                                                                                  http://jlstanley.livejournal.com/ )