a live oak in a field of waving, orange grass,
the last bit of dew clinging to these berries,
dried seed pods that look like silvery, gray petunias,
tall, dried, sculptural flowers,
this bare tree nestled in the dried broomweed,
the fog lifting and sunlight shining behind this tangle of vines and berries.
...He shines in all that's fair; in the rustling grass I hear Him pass; He speaks to me everywhere.
1 comment:
GODS canvas is simply beautiful no matter how cold or hot the weather and no matter what anybody really thinks ..... GOD never ceases to amaze me whether its through HIS people or HIS pieces of HIS creation ..... Your pictures truly glorify HIM ...... Rest well .
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