God’s poet is silence! His song is unspoken
And yet so profound, and so loud, and so far,
That it thrills you and fills you in measures unbroken—
The unceasing song of the first morning star….
There is a silence
into which the world cannot intrude.
There is an ancient peace you carry
in your heart and have not lost.
There is a sense of holiness in you
the thought of sin has never touched.
All this today you will remember.
~From a COURSE IN MIRACLES
by Marianne Williamson
He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters. ~Psalm 23:2 ✝
As I’ve said in previous posts, I love Claude Monet; I love his gardens at Giverny; and I love his paintings, many of which are of water lilies. So I was thrilled to find a few years back that at our city’s Botanical Garden a water lily pond had been created. “Et voilá” here are some that were in full bloom in that pond today–magnificent beauties rooted in “dust” and anchored in water glowing in the bright Texas sun of a late August day.
Here is a problem, a wonder for all to see.
Look at this marvelous thing I hold in my hand!
This is a magic surprising, a mystery
Strange as a miracle, harder to understand.
What is it? Only a handful of earth: to your touch
A dry rough powder you trample beneath your feet,
Dark and lifeless; but think for a moment, how much
It hides and holds that is beautiful, bitter, or sweet.
Think of the glory of color! The red of the rose,
Green of the myriad leaves and the fields of grass,
Yellow as bright as the sun where the daffodil blows,
Purple where violets nod as the breezes pass.
Think of the manifold form, of the oak and the vine,
Nut, and fruit, and cluster, and ears of corn;
Of the anchored water-lily, a thing divine,
Unfolding its dazzling snow to the kiss of morn.
Who shall compass or fathom God’s thought profound?
We can but praise, for we may not understand;
But there’s no more beautiful riddle the whole world round
Than is hid in this heap of dust I hold in my hand.
~Excerpted lines from Dust, a poem
by Celia Thaxter
Then the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living thing. ~Genesis 2:7 ✝
like the soothing calm of falling rain
sweet side of red
like the charming smell of roses
like melting chocolate on the tongue
There was a flowery mixing of pink and blue and purple yesterday
Making of the yard a purplicious, pinkish, bluish sort of palette.
The innocence of pale pink was tinged with bolder magenta
While a sparkly pink sat mid-throat in a deep blue morning glory
Thrilling the bees and me almost as much as the pink chiffon of dusk and
The heavenly shades of night’s deep purple fallingl over sleepy garden walls.
That which we love as purple by any other name would be just as grand:
Threads of amethyst in the divine tapestry interwoven upon demand.
The winter of life is embellished in buoyant dimensions of purple strands.
Like in The Color Purple, I wander through in purple pastures when I can.
Each majestic mauve and passive purple proves there’s no need to be sad.
Were the world mine, all of Earth’s shores would be rife with purple sand,
And I would request sparkly purple sunshine if nature granted me the chance.
~Edited poem by Ryan John Payne
Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. ~Psalm 139:7-10 ✝
It has been a kind of yellowlicious day,
and what could such be, one might say?
Well, yellowlicious is as
and what yellowlicious does is color
our days with the brightest of luscious flowers.
~A Dr. Seussical kind of query
by Natalie Scarberry
a yellow rhyme
in my hands, and
like a bevy of
bright butterfly wings
Since yellow is
the brightest color
in the rainbow,
why shouldn’t it
pen flaxen happiness
in the sunlight
As it spreads
its luminous wings
and paints across
the yard in swaths of gold,
landing here and there
as nimbly as a butterfly
Now I can’t help but
wonder if one couldn’t
catch such dazzling
poesy and turn it
into butterfly smiles
for the whole world to see.
~Heavily edited and adapted poem
by Gregory Golden
God your love is so precious. You protect people in the shadow of your wings. ~Psalm 36:7 ✝
When you arise in the morning,
think of what a privilege it is to be alive –
to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love.
Praise God in his sanctuary; praise him in his mighty heavens. Praise him for his acts of power; praise him for his surpassing greatness…Let everything that has breath praise the Lord. ~Psalm 150:1-2, 6 ✝
**Pink morning glories in the day’s first light in my garden.