We prayed, Forgive us our trespasses
as we forgive… Sin,
only a fence to be crawled under,
a warning wired to a gate,
the path beyond, our invitation to adventure.
Give us this day our daily bread,
we prayed in Sunday School,
though it was our mother
baking bread, its yeasty,
sweet smell tugging us home.
To thine be the kingdom,
we prayed, though maple, red alder,
cedar and spruce, Doug fir
were the kings of our kingdom,
the boundary corners of our woods
marked with stone cairns.
Nature was God’s other book
and we memorized it, fervent as acolytes.
We knew the power and glory
or running barefoot, sunburned,
our sweatshirts snagging on barbed wire
as we trespassed the years.
Trespass
![Trespass](https://braidedway.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/12/a-36-1280x640.jpg)
This truly rocks. This is how childhood felt to so many of us. Every crack in the school, church, ball team hierarchy felt something to run through and keep on running.
This poem sings to my soul
Both these replies make my heart sing — thank you for reading!