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
Splendor
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
www.unfoldinglight.net
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