Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.

Enough of Easter lilies,
trumpets and choirs and angels
and their improbable wings
folded tight in the tomb.

Let me find glory in a single bird
working a bare branch,
your breath that wakens me,
in brown grass turning slowly green,
glory enough.


Weather Report

drably disguised
as grey days and banal tasks,
as a high pressure front
of chores and deadlines
pushes the warm, moist air of heaven
out of our awareness.
The sun will rise beyond our ken,
unless attentiveness breaks through.

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail,
write to me at unfoldinglight (at) gmail.com

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