It’s overcast this Sunday As we sabbath on the deck. A few leaves let go As we creep closer to Fall. Our conversation’s stoked By a breeze blowing over breakfast. We hold hands and thank God for it all.
There’s nothing natural About this world; Just miracles We’ve become accustomed to.
I could search forever And never see The boundaries of Your glory; There are wonders buried in deepest space And others I miss Before my face.
October’s rays are lazy; They don’t rise-and-shine, they fall. The leaves sift them like cinnamon And they rest on autumn like a shawl.
The early-morning whirring of the insects Seems like a suitable sound For creatures careening ‘cross the universe to make as their sphere spins ‘round and ‘round
All the leaves in the canopy The Lord knows every one Every grain of sand beneath the seas And baking in the sun All the flakes on every peak He calls them all by name He warms our hearths when he speaks Each leaping fiery flame Every soul you’ve every known He knitted them withContinue reading “Even We Are Good”
To my ears a summer storm is all Sizzle, patter, rumble. To my eyes it’s puddle bubbles In the drive. To my nose, it’s wet earth; To my skin, liquid darts. But, I can’t describe A summer storm’s worth To my heart.
Mornings in March Are all blossom and promise Chilly air kissing your skin Birdsongs signaling Death of the darkness A new day dawning without and within
If I had stayed inside today I’d have never seen the hawks Sparring in the February sun