When I was
planning to move to a different house
Sometimes
I was glad.
Some times
I was sad – because there were no trees
There,
And I
thought I wouldn’t hear the birds sing.
AND trees!
And very early one morning I heard the
sweet song
Of a happy
little wren!
And I
wondered – is she moving in too?
AN
AFTERNOON
ON A
One
afternoon on a northern lake
I watched
a crane do a graceful ballet
for an
audience of white sea gulls
perched on an
isle
Of weather
beaten rock.
On shore
tall pines swayed, applauding her
performance and
Blue sky
formed background for a pattern
of faces in
the clouds, seeming to be
silent critics.
The sun’s
rays sparkled on the water and
Made
footlights for the stage.
Then the
lights grew dim – moving clouds
blotted out the
sun and
closed the
curtain on the final act.
WILD
GEESE FLYING
And then I
saw them…
Their
honk, honk, honking I heard first.
Loud and
clear the sound came, as they
flew southward
in perfect V-formation.
It was a
beautiful sight on this early
November
morning.
I watched
as long as I could see – they
finally
disappeared in the early
fog and mist.
And my
hope was renewed – wasn’t the same
Loving God
who was protecting them
In their
flight, watching over them,
sheltering them from
harm, the same God
who is
watching over me?
The
millions of seeds of a single plant…
All serve
to continue life on earth…
some will grow
to b giant trees.
Others
become food for
birds and mice…
each a very
minute part…
Of a great
majestic harmony….
The
alertness of the birds…
The
intensity of the plants to grow…
The
constant watchfulness of each…
To protect
its right to be
…and
become…
This is life….
In all its forms…
so simple…
so wondrous…
so
everlasting…
There is
no time for inconsistency…
Eternal
life is being served…
Around it
in a measured space the spinning
world is
traveling… night and day…
the months
and years…
summer… winter…
spring and fall….
Into the
air that surrounds the
Earth…
Clouds are
forming….
clouds of
wondrous splendor…
dense vapors…
and tiny
wisps of crystallized air…
Expansive
…ascending mists…
Catching
the rays of the sun and
bouncing them back
and forth
until the cloud
is light….
Clouds that are heavy with rain…
And storm
clouds through which the
Rays
cannot pass
For days,
yet
Above
and beyond… the sun in shining.
I don’t
know how He does it
From way
up there where He is:
A flower stand,
forgotten on my
balcony now a
lovely
piece of
architecture with
little rounding
mounds of snow,
perfect on every
extended arm
(which) in summer held beautiful
green plants.
Six of
these mounds – like minarets
are protected
carefully from
blustering winter
winds –
out there to
be enjoyed for
days and days.
ABOUT
A
I have to
write these lines about the
Such
Beauty!
Always a
breathtaking sight from my balcony –
No houses
or buildings nor “earthly stuff”
to mar the
scene.
Black, scribbly
designs made by bare
branches of the
trees of winter –
Striking –
black against the pink and
red of the
sky.
I follow
as far as I can see around the side;
The hour
is very early;
most people
never see this panorama.
Truly, I
reflect, the Art of God.” But,
Isn’t all
nature?
And just
think –
No need
for matting –
No
decision to make as to
“an appropriate frame”
No
indecision as to “where to hang.”
Yet - it is mine to keep
forever.
Dear Lord,
did I remember to say Amen
When I
approached thy throne of
Grace last
night?
I was so
worried for thy children
everywhere!
Where is
it all to end?
Sleep must
have come just then because
I don’t
remember is I said Amen.