A garden spot may be a noisy place
Where droning bees
Seek honey, spiders weave their silver lace
Upon the trees,
And little birds sing songs the livelong day.
Or it may be so silent that it seems
The flowers sleep,
And shy, mysterious virgin dreams
Their vigil keep,
And God communes with earth the livelong day.
Spring, ever so splendid springtime! God’s glory colors the arms of barren trees, the unfolding petals of flowers, and the fanciful wings of every creature in flight. Rebirth and renewal explode from soil seemingly laid waste by icy months of freezing temperatures, and the sunshine charges the air with invigorating currents. The hum of the bees and the song of the birds fill ears with melodies, sweet and grand, while spiders do indeed weave sticky lairs of “silver lace.” Then there are those splendiferous moments at dawn and twilight when a tranquil hush pervades the space between heaven and earth, and in the silence sacred whispers cross the thresholds of listening ears.
Listen! My beloved! Look! Here he comes, leaping across the mountains, bounding over the hills. ~Song of Songs 2:8 ✝
May your salvation, Jesus, be with us always!