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 least-
I’m going, all along.  ~~Emily Dickinson

A special thank you to Gwen, for sending me the poem. It serves as a lovely way to begin again.