The wind whips through the pine, birch, and poplar trees
And whistling fills the air with certain, pregnant expectancy.
Not for new life borne of loins, but a secret cradled in a gentle breeze.
A Power beyond human comprehension speaks with simplicity.
Rain drenches the fields and forests and brooks, rivers and lakes.
The cedar rooted in the soil beside the brook’s ripples and rivulets.
A stillness settles in when the storms passes, Greatness never forsakes.
Drink living water, bow before the Creator, irises illumined in violet.
Sunlight pours forth lavishly to glorify God in unwavering testament.
There I am in awe, unable to utter a syllable for the Spirit descends.
In quiet suspension, a peace that surpasses understanding embraces me.
Time a mere fragment, the Lord mysteriously conveys fragile strength.
Copyright © J. L. Smyth July 9, 2023