Don’t you love it when the sky, pre-dusk and cloudy draws your eye up
to see a round ball with an aura and you’re confused over whether it is the sun or the moon?
But, it doesn’t matter. You’re not bothered by your lack of wisdom in the area of science. You’re enamored with the beauty, the beauty of the sun and/or moon.
Don’t you love it when you recognize your bravery and for only a minute, even less, you allow it to make you afraid,
Afraid of others, afraid of too much true you?
Don’t you feel brave when you are you?
Don’t you just love it when you reach down to collect another feather because to you, it means something, to you it feels like you see me?
Do you see the change when your aunt sends you off from your visit with a pot of your own of “hen and biddy” succulents?
Don’t you feel brave when she doesn’t remind you that these grey green waxy flowers are from the funeral arrangement of your mama
And you remember but you don’t linger in the scene of sorrow’s visual?
Don’t you love it when even grief can become beautiful, when you see me more clearly and see more clearly how I see you?
Beautiful all along,
even more evident and every thing beautiful, in time?
Don’t you love it?
Overwhelmed with bliss are all
who will entwine their hearts in him, waiting for him to help them. Isaiah 30:18, Passion translation