The wisteria vines have exploded in the neighborhood in a profusion of senseless, lavish and wasteful beauty.
The rain has redeemed the world making all nature rupture in a riot of green.
The birds and the animals know the gift and sing to God.
The human-neighbors delight at a wet spring and the promise of summer's bounty unspoiled by drought.
The girl-child jumps at the sound of her father's voice.
The mother with the empty head waits eagerly to learn what it is she doesn't yet know she doesn't know.
God is in his heaven, all's right with the world.
Except for that...it isn't.
But hope shines out like the first morning.
The rain has redeemed the world making all nature rupture in a riot of green.
The birds and the animals know the gift and sing to God.
The human-neighbors delight at a wet spring and the promise of summer's bounty unspoiled by drought.
The girl-child jumps at the sound of her father's voice.
The mother with the empty head waits eagerly to learn what it is she doesn't yet know she doesn't know.
God is in his heaven, all's right with the world.
Except for that...it isn't.
But hope shines out like the first morning.
4 comments:
I followed the blogland candy trail of links and ended up here. I just couldn't resist the title of your blog. I'm so glad that I found my way here. You are a wonderful writer. I trust that hope will keep its beacon bright and strong for you.
I appreciate that very much, Relyn.
Su-I heart you.
I heart you back.
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