At Rest
I love what You’ve made
every creature I see
the tan, furry face
the content, buzzing bee
the flowers that open
on the branch of a tree
and the doves that dive low
overhead, over me
I love that the sky
opens up in a spot
and the sun, it shoots through
the thick fog that it fought
where the blue is so welcome
and the light that it brought
reminds me that joy
it’s still there, like I thought
Father, help me to see
that today, it is new
that You made the flower
and You made the blue
that nothing could buzz
or dive without You
that nothing could open
unless you tell it to
Sometimes I forget
that the small things are big
that the dark becomes light
that the day grows the fig
that at rest I can see
where for treasure, to dig
that the tree sings Your song
every branch, every twig.
— Kathi Burg
Anita
Lovely! Thank you, Kathi. How are you two rural folk enjoying spring in the mountains? (Although, I guess, as of Memorial Day it’s technically summer…) All’s well up here on the northern tier. Orchard still holding onto a few blooms, after having been gloriously ablaze with flowers for the few weeks prior. Spent the afternoon clearing weeds from the raspberry patch, so that they can take off and do their magic again.
Much love to you and Tim!
~Anita
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Kathi Burg
Glad you liked it. 🙂 Your farm sounds really pretty right now. We are enjoying it where we are too. I’ll send you some pics. 🙂
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