A Closer Look

One rainy day when I went out to play with my camera, the little ant caught my eye and I took a closer look.

I see ants and raindrops differently now.

She with the quaint, blue glasses
did not quite fit in that strange modern world,
so it put her in a box
 labeled
awkward, dowdy,
unlearned, poor
hillbilly.
But today she smiles
every time she remembers
the one who refused to let
eyeglasses, clothing,
naivete, or accent
define her.
He took a closer look.

I wonder........
Do I take a closer look
at those my world has put in boxes?
labeled
leftwing, rightwing,
Fascist, Communist,
redneck, blueblood,
ad infinitum.

Dandelion

Have you considered the dandelion? 
Other than "get that THING outta my yard!"
We mow it, we spray it, we dig it, some eat it,
We may even cuss it
But still it insists on lifting it's beaming face,
Indefatigable!

With it's heart-melting power,

It's the child's favorite flower 

for giving handfuls of love

to mothers, to grammas,

to ladies at church.

And guess what I read in the news?

(It was on MSN...it must be true)

There in the top ten superfoods,

the cleansing, nourishing dandelion!

And those beautiful, fluffy orbs

of tasty, vigorous seeds

beckon to vivid goldfinches

A heavenly feast indeed!

But never mind..........!

I must send these beauties

to a waterless grave,

So they never again

see the light of day!

And armed with the latest

in dandy defense,

I answer the challenge

and at last I'm rewarded

with a lovely green lawn,

Sans dandelions.

Then the wind dares to blow   

from the neighboring lawn

scattering seeds,

hundreds of seeds,  

thousands of seeds,

ready to start all over again,

doing what they do best,

growing and blooming and seeding

and celebrating life.

Hmmmmmmm...........

They remind me of the love of God

Always giving, never partial

Always enduring, always present.

It can be scorned, rejected, and taken for granted,

but it never changes, never fails, always loves.

So dig up the dandelions if that makes you happy,

But whenever you see one, let it remind you

of how very much God loves you!

PS(After all dandelions have their place---no one wants them to take over!!

But I want God in all my life, not just in His "proper place"---in church on

Sunday morning!!)

Beauty

Why beauty in nature?
Why does it persist?
Science has no need of it,

Human eye may never see it,

Time will soon remove it.

And yet.....

The delicate woodland flower,

sculpted petals of flawless white,

rises briefly from her forest bed.

Forsythia's golden bells

reach for a bright blue sky;

sky that's colored orange and red

purple, pink and navy

when the sun goes off to bed

and waves goodby with beauty's brush.

The cheerful tribe of daffodils,

in shades of yellow, orange, and white;

perfect petals, six in all

adorned with beauty's crown.

Trees filled with bridal veils,

pink rivers made of weeds,

Dainty violets all aglow,
plum tree blossoms white as snow,

muted choirs of bonny bluebells,

spritely purple violets,

candy striped spring beauties,

layered rocks and bubbling streams,

Beauty's mark is everywhere!!

What of it? Why?

She reveals a Maker's hand

who plans with care each small detail;

He generously, attentively,

cheerfully, faithfully,

lovingly, perfectly,

clothed all these.

Will He not also

clothe thee?

Boxes and Freedom

What am I doing stuffed into this box?

No room to move, not even to breathe.
"You must fit this space to be proper and right,
If some part sticks out, then just cut it off!
Do this, don't do that, keep your thoughts to yourself.
I don't wanna hear what you have to say!
Do not imagine, do not create,

Put a lid on it and stay in that box!"

But wonder of wonders, now I see,

that a loving God has set me free!
Free to be His and free to be me, 

I'm in Him and He's in me!

No longer imprisoned, He's given me wings,

By Grace I will soar,

fly high and fly free,

And I'll never go back

To that stifling old box!    

Spring!

The cold, snowy fingers of winter

suddenly yield,

To the light touch of spring

as she flits from valley

to hill,

Blessing the earth with her joy.

Released from icy chambers,

Each rivulet, stream and river

runs full

and boisterous,

Tumbling joyfully to the sea.

The sentinel peeper asleep in the marsh,

Heard spring as she lingered,

And he knew it was time

to boldly pipe

his nocturnal reveille

and awaken his brothers, those heralds of spring.

Spring beauties in striped pink gowns

of simple splendor,

Dance

in the great forest ballroom.

The whole earth awakens as birds start to sing;

I tramp through the woods, by the streams, through the fields,

And blissfully greet each welcoming sign,

And join with each voice

And welcome

SPRING!