She bends,


life has stripped

all illusory


power and prestige

from bandaged

eyes. She knows

now how poor,


blind, pitiful

and naked

she has been all

along. So


she does

what she should have

done long ago –




Softly steals the sun to sleep,

softly sun makes snowbanks weep;

feather-soft is evening breeze,

Winter’s brought to softened knees.


Flexible, I lean with wind

and curve before its raging force;

Flexible, I shift when snowflakes

seek to send my path off course.

Flexible, I tilt my head

to follow path of arcing sun;

Flexible, I bow my heart

to Maker, when the day is done.


For more thoughts on this topic, visit Growing With God in my Garden

Give Seeds Their Wings

Your season of labour ‘neath hot summer sun

Has come to a standstill; the seeds you have won

Are poised on the brink of a wondrous fall fling,

One you can’t control – so

give seeds their wings!