The laid-back breeze begins to tease
The hemlock and the pine
As Heaven’s fingers gently blur
West’s dim horizon-line
While in the east a languid feast
Bleeds from the harvest moon
A lullaby in velvet sky
Without a note or tune
The silhouette of maple-red
Is etched against deep blues
As God above in tones of love
The restless light subdues
And in the hush of dwindled rush
A halo crowns the dust
As all my cares in weightless prayers
Drift to the One I trust
My lesser loves like empty gloves
I place in Hands of grace
Why do I dread the miles ahead?
He holds the stars in space
He writes the hymn of willow limb
The earth He bathes with dew
And in the calm of midnight’s palm
His mercy is made new
Janet Martin
Tonight the silence is perfect, save for a faithful few crickets.
I'm tempted to pull out my wheel-barrow and work in my flower-beds,
the moon is so bright. It would be so still and so CRAZY! Why?
Oh....right. Nights were made for sleeping. Why does God save some of His best displays
for the hours when we're supposed to sleeping?!
His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning.
Great is Your faithfulness. Lam. 3:23
"My lesser loves like empty gloves I place in Hands of grace," brought me to a halt until I could regain my breath. Beautiful
ReplyDeleteThank-you Mike. Last night was so large and beautiful words almost seemed like an injustice to such grandeur!
ReplyDelete