A Meditation On Springtime

The leaves are coming in on the fig trees as the warm spring sunshine lights upon them.

The leaves are coming in on the fig trees as the warm spring sunshine lights upon them.

Every aspect of creation,
Each and every day,
Radiates with its own song to the creator,
It possesses a glory all its own,
And aims it at the hand that placed,
The dew upon the grass,
The leaves on the trees in spring,
The rose upon the stem,
And the murmur in the stream.

One hand has shaped,
For all mankind to see,
The world we live and walk in,
Full of grace and beauty,
The early morning song of the birds,
Is a song of love and praise,
And the wind takes up the call,
And the sun sends dancing rays,
All this for the only loving King.

Walk outside the world of men,
The concrete monuments to our own glory,
For our cities are like Babel,
Built to glorify ourselves,
We have become disconnected,
From the ties that make us human,
When we lost our connection to creation,
We lost our connection to ourselves,
For apart from the image we are made in,
We cannot be.

Turn your back to things of this world,
If only for a moment,
Listen again to that ancient song,
And join in the harmony,
Contemplate the dawn,
And the moonlight on the waterers,
Ponder the stars anew,
Find the place reserved for you,
In the ancient dance of praise,
Each day has its own glory,
Will you add or subtract from it?

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s