My Church by James Cayce is a reflective bush poem about finding peace, wonder and something almost sacred in the Australian landscape.
Rather than walls, pews and sermons, James finds his church beneath the trees — in birdsong at dawn, moonlight after dark and the quiet sense of belonging that comes from simply being out in the bush.
My Church
By James Cayce
There’s a church that I know where I gladly will go
when the songs from its choristers call.
Where the voices I hear ring loud and ring clear
above pillars sturdy and tall.
Where the sun bathes the pews in dawn-dappled hues
that glow in the gossamer haze.
To warmly caress, welcome and bless
all who have come to give praise.
Where the songsters arrive with spirits alive
to a call that each in their way
knows to abide and have duly replied
to ring in the birth of the day.
Where the colours they bring on breast and on wing
are weaved in the sway of the trees
Their melodies trill as they jostle and mill
and their chatter floats high on the breeze.
The murmuring ends.
A silence descends,
heavy with anticipation.
Then this boisterous throng will burst into song
in a chorus of loud celebration.
As their symphony fills the valleys and hills
of this sacred and ancient domain
my spirits are lifted, my soul has been gifted
to hear such a splendid refrain.
And when light of the day has faded away
And the moon rises low in the trees
New choirs will sing in the twilight and bring
the sense of a world all at ease.
Again I will go to that church that I know
To those aisles I’ve so often tread
Honoured to sit and watch as they’re lit –
Those candles that glow overhead.
My church is as old as the country itself
as broad as the plains of the west.
Where senses are awed by the work of the Lord
And welcomes all as a guest.
No organ is played, no promises made
to sinners seeking salvation.
Where no doors are closed, no sermons imposed
and no talk of Hell or damnation.
No Bibles are quoted, no absences noted
and no altar at which all must pray
No implied request to wear Sunday Best,
no commandments that all must obey.
No judgements are passed, no ill glances cast
at the Godless, the slow or the poor.
My church has stood for a million years
and will stand for a million more.
© James Cayce
Keeping The Verse Alive
My Church is shared with permission from James Cayce as part of Keeping The Verse Alive, Country Campfire’s bush poetry preservation project.
By preserving poems like this, we’re helping ensure the stories, humour and characters of country Australia continue to be enjoyed for generations to come.
James Cayce
Bush Poet • Humourist • Storyteller • Parody Writer
James Cayce is the pen name of Zbigniew “Zig” Ignaszak, a bush poet and storyteller whose work blends humour, parody, memory, gratitude and Australian country verse.
🔥 Explore more Australian Bush Poetry →
Poems, recitals, photographs, stories and original works remain the property of their original creator and are shared by Country Campfire with permission.
