the wild garden

all the flowers in the wild garden
have yielded their spirits to autumn’s chill
and become dry brown ghosts, their seeds
falling out of cracked heads and cones

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rime

i woke one morn in winter past
the world still hushed and sleeping fast

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sunrise met the meadow

Sunrise met the meadow stark and spare

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The art of noticing

For me, wonder flows from paying attention to the world around me, whatever or wherever that happens to be at the moment. Paying attention to what is outside and beyond myself is necessary to get my eyes off me and onto the world God made, and then on to Himself.

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november morning

when i woke this morning
the ground lay thick with leaves

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