Some keep the Sabbath going to Church (236), by Emily Dickinson
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.
It’s a world full of intersections and what to do and what really is can be rather confusing at
times. It seems true that some roads are best not taken. However, sometimes it’s hard to
tell unless the road is taken. Perhaps we’re going, all along, and perhaps it’s that realization
that makes it easier to breathe well when those intersections come around.