**Images via pinterest; collage by Nataie
Carol A. Hand
Morning fog enshrouds what has become my world
intensifying sound and silence and limiting vision
forcing me to listen deeply
and see only what is both within and near
When enfolded by things I have no power to change
it seems to be the wisest choice
to focus on connectedness and possibilities
rather than on the fear and sadness of illusory divisions
knowing that the fog will clear once its embrace
has softened the imaginary boundaries between us
Photo: The Fog by Ian Furst (Wikipedia)
Copyright Notice: © Carol A. Hand and carolahand, 2013-2016. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Carol A. Hand and carolahand with appropriate and specific direction to the original…
View original post 1 more word
If you’ve never been thrilled
to the very edges of your soul
by a flower in spring bloom, maybe
your soul has never been in bloom.
Come as they do in May are
the sweet morning-glory morns
that herald brilliant daylily days
with rosy high noons and
the busiest of busy bee hours
on the hosts of purple coneflowers.
And all the while the butterflies
waltz by the big, yellow sunflowers that
wilt not on the hot, sultry afternoons
when often I find grasshoppers perched
atop the strangest of flowery places.
But come dusk when the day is almost done
all these must relinquish the stage to the
pearly iridescent glow of white moonflowers
unfurling ‘neath heaven’s twinkling stars.
‘Tis all this that a gardener’s hope-filled
dreams and schemes are made of.
Praise the Lord, my soul, and forget not all his benefits. ~Psalm 103:2 ✝
**Flower images taken by me; collage created by me too.
**Images found on Pinterest; collage created by Natalie
**Watercolor image found on Pinterest; text box added by Natalie