The pines are your cathedral spires.
The birds, your bells.
The wind will haunt you with its chant.
And remember, you are on sacred ground.
Tread softly, do not disturb the worship of your fellow creatures.
Linger if you wish, meditate, for you are on sacred ground.
The Clark's nutcrackers will now sing the postlude.
Go forth! Remember that you were on sacred ground.
Once again I love your choice of words. This totally resonates with me as I do not have a formal religion, I have the woods.
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