I marvel at trees that knew just where to grow to get the best view of things. They don't have to move to see the best scenery. They tells us more than where to look. They have alot to say about how to live.
Grace
Trees breathing
with arms lifted
toward the sky,
branches knowing
what is needed
from above
all things
to live.
Or is it not the tree,
But something above,
Descending to raise
In praise the arms
heavenward,
breathing divinity,
lifting creation
to Creator?
Effortless—
the breathing
the lifting,
and beckoning…
For all nature to
Take its one
breath of life,
sing its praise.
And for once, I
Stopped…
to catch my breath,
Wondering…
Why I work
at living,
not living
the Life,
of grace.
No comments:
Post a Comment