My Cathedral

Chris Rice turns the natural world into a sanctuary in this quietly reverent song, where the deep woods of childhood become the place worship first took root. The opening verses recall stomping through a creek, joining a cricket chorus, and humming gratitude around a crackling fire — small, sensory memories that carry a sense of being fully alive. That early intimacy with creation matures into a baptism in a river under open sky, water washing clean and drying in the sun, and the singer still scans the ancient sky to understand where he belongs. The recurring image of a house of worship built from column trees and a canopy of stars gives the song its title and its architecture: no walls, no roof but the constellations. Rice links this outdoor devotion to the psalmists and holy men of old who knelt in soil and thanked God for rain, and to herald angels singing beneath the same stars. The final verse asks to keep wandering in robin songs and thunder, surrounded by stained-glass leaves that shift with every breeze. It is a song about finding the sacred in stillness and weather rather than in a building, and about letting that landscape keep calling the soul home.