For years a small wooden plaque with the poem above hung with wire from a mossy branch. Winter floods washed it away, so now just the memory remains…
The Green Altar
I felt the need of God today, but not within the four church walls.
Where stained glass windows sifted light and shadows clung to hallowed halls.
No, not in any man made place could I lift my voice in prayer.
But in some quiet wooded glen I seek to know, to feel, to share.
On stairstep pews of mossy stone I bow in reverence seeking grace,
While just beyond a crystal pool reflects the nearness of His face.
Margaret W. Stevens
