A poem for a September evening

First: I think I am going to resurrect the Buttress. What its new purpose will be, I'm not quite sure yet.

Second: a poem for a September evening. I think I'll preach on it at Thursday interfaith worship at the VA hospital this week.

Woods

I part the out-thrusting branches
and come in beneath
the blessed and the blessing trees.
Though I am silent
there is singing around me.
Though I am dark
there is vision around me.
Though I am heavy
there is flight around me.

Wendell Berry