Here in these Woods

Silent, sitting motionless
Surrounded by vivid greenery
Unblinking, gazing down at bottom land
Needing no church, mosque or gilded temple
No more truth than a wood thrush's beautiful song
What that preacher told me had to be a lie
Animals do have souls, there are spirits
Those words seem meaningless
Here in these woods today

A barred owl by the stream
Roosting upon a dead branch
Surely seeing me while I'm watching her
Nothing alive here will remain undetected
Millions of years, the knowledge in her black eyes
Far older than the oldest creation stories
Long before religion blighted the world
Predating speech and writing
I don't see that god here