Sunday, July 28, 2013

July 28, 2013

THE garden looks glorious resting comfortably in the palm of summer; sinuous and lovelier than ever. I am entranced by this green lushness and beauty; the amount of life buzzing, and bustling and growing in it; spellbound I am, rapt in light and deep thoughts as I see, and hear and feel—the hand which sustains it all; this hand which moves the skies and pours out the rains, creating, nourishing, caring for every organism in our beautiful world and beyond it. I am but a speck of dust in the hands of my Creator—waiting, as with all living thing under the sun to be feed and filled with His wonderful peace and light and every goodness there is. "For every beast of the forest is Mine, the cattle on a thousand hills. I know every bird of the mountains, and everything that moves in the field is Mine" (Psalms 50).

I'm tiptoeing over my dream to retain it; be able to keep flowing, keep dreaming... and perhaps, keep the strangers away? For how would I ever forget and forgive myself for throwing away my dream—this Paradise-garden of mine? Would it be cared for when I leave... would it be neglected, ignored? Would it be loved? And if so, how well will it be loved? Would it be enough?

I'm taking it with me—taking my garden with me tucked in my heart in the way of memories... a wedding, a dear little fairy, a baby singing, bright nights, rose petals, a sleepy kitty amidst the hostas, the music of a saxophone beyond the garden gates, birds singing, the miracle of a hummingbird, the song of the cicadas, the gathering of four generations, a dog the color of the sunset, memories tucked away in my heart and mind to store them away so I can later carefully look at them with perspective that only time can provide.

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