Winter Pilgrimage
A cold biting wind to make muscles stiffen, my every limb so to ache,
Slowly trudging of great depths in the snow, this journey I must make.
My bible in hand against my side, I'm invigorated with each new stride,
Though late to church on this Sunday, I'll soon feel the warmth inside.
My faithful hound, inseparable partner, close behind me follows,
No more devotion, a welcomed shadow of his, that I may hope.
As in the far distance, near the woods, I spy a small herd of deer,
With the greatest ease, as they come near, all traverse the slope.
In a distant oak, I hear a Snow Owl, its reassuring call, as my guide,
There all the wild creatures live, in the deepest dark forest to abide.
Soon I spy the steeple I adore, as its security to make my spirits soar.
There knowing I have friends, all to greet, many fond hymns in store,
At last, as in the churches pew, I did so rest, the cross in front on the wall,
I considered the challenge of the journey I made, was now so worth it all.
The pastor soon joined, opening hymns sang, another Sunday underway,
The church in the wood, precious jewel understood, brightens my new day.
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