| Contemplation on a Morning Walk He smiles at me in the rising sun, He sings in every bird, As the wind flutters leaves, one by one, His silent voice is heard. His gentle hand holds the opening flower, And spreads the petals wide, All evidence of Creation power, Is in a place where pansies hide. He provides the deer that delights my eye, The squirrel that climbs a tree, And snails that slither as I pass by, He gave them all to me. He is found in quiet contemplation, Wordless ~ Yet I hear Him talk, He is known in ever deeper measure, All in a morning walk. by, Betty Dobrowolski Web Page from: WebPageGiveAway | | |
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