Vivid arrays of color & pinwheels of light, tint my
memory.
memory.
– – – – – – – – – – – –
STRIKING EYES OF A lingering child.
Whispers of cornstalks
rustle. The FALL WIND BLOWS & catches a vertical stem. We cross a lake, I gasp & in the
distance statuesque hills mimic the patchwork of a timeless quilt. Cracking stone, generations of families within the walls of the aged ranch. The layers of His hands… they are ALL WOVEN
together, with exquisite detail.
rustle. The FALL WIND BLOWS & catches a vertical stem. We cross a lake, I gasp & in the
distance statuesque hills mimic the patchwork of a timeless quilt. Cracking stone, generations of families within the walls of the aged ranch. The layers of His hands… they are ALL WOVEN
together, with exquisite detail.
– – – – –
All His. All brush strokes of a genius.
He speaks & LIFE happens.
His artistry is before us. How can we miss it?
Why would we ever glance over such ingenious work?
– – – – –
It is true, the LORD SPEAKS and the seeds germinate season
upon season, dust falls on gravel roads journeyed by an aged gentleman & HIS COMPANION,
a chocolate stallion. Drops of rain unhurriedly hit pebbles along a less
traveled path, a child cries & the glisten of the SUN BEAMS against a painless
and cracked window.
upon season, dust falls on gravel roads journeyed by an aged gentleman & HIS COMPANION,
a chocolate stallion. Drops of rain unhurriedly hit pebbles along a less
traveled path, a child cries & the glisten of the SUN BEAMS against a painless
and cracked window.
A paisley bonnet of mocha, cream, & caramel gathers
Anna’s hair; she smirks and squints at Elizabeth and they welcome my brief visit to their
village. Sheppard’s direct herds
of cotton-covered sheep passing the turf covered roadway. BRAIDED PIGTAILS of Mariana, a village girl, SING JOY. A widow peeks over her iron
gate greeting the passerby.
Anna’s hair; she smirks and squints at Elizabeth and they welcome my brief visit to their
village. Sheppard’s direct herds
of cotton-covered sheep passing the turf covered roadway. BRAIDED PIGTAILS of Mariana, a village girl, SING JOY. A widow peeks over her iron
gate greeting the passerby.
Tattered smocking’s hang FREELY on a tightly drawn
clothesline as gusts of wind absorb droplets of the morning’s moisture, and the MOONLIGHT SITS STILL on the bank of an aged lake.
clothesline as gusts of wind absorb droplets of the morning’s moisture, and the MOONLIGHT SITS STILL on the bank of an aged lake.
Fire lingers on the veins of a wrinkled hollow piece of
lumber & HUMS OF FRIENDS ECHO in the fall air as their music fills the
night landscape.
lumber & HUMS OF FRIENDS ECHO in the fall air as their music fills the
night landscape.
– – – –
Turquoise meets the wood plank of
a fragile shutter.
– – – –
These are my moments, ones He created for me to fathom. HIS WORKS INSPIRE ME. He is my Father.
Have you ever really looked DEEP into the eyes of another?
What did you see? Did you see your own REFLECTION? It is FASCINATING.
Our eyes are like mirrors. They cast reflections of both what we see & who sees us.
It is extraordinary.
It is extraordinary.
It is perfection. Brilliant design, fashioned by a flawless designer.
The Lord looks through A DIFFERENT LENS than we often do. I have asked God to show me more of how He looks at the
world, HIS CREATION. How does He
see?
world, HIS CREATION. How does He
see?
What breaks His HEART?
What satisfies Him or stirs Him? His PALETTE, it
is immeasurable, it is TIMELESS. His strokes are
genius.
– – – – – – – – – – – –
What lens are you viewing through today, HIS LENS or yours?
