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note to self: go outside

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." —  Henry David Thoreau credit My phone died recently. Not like died because of its charge — permanently died. I'm not the only one whom this has happened to, I'm sure, and this isn't a complaint. Rather, it's an observation on how different the landscape of my life has been without it. I've been reading more, watching more TV, doing less doomscrolling. I found that I've missed my phone a lot less and simultaneously a lot more than I expected. And I've been noticing a difference in my mental state. My mental health is, apparently, linked in part to the device I hold in my hand 99% of the time. Who knew? However, it's still been challenging lately, for more reasons than just my phone, and my sister invited me to go outside with her. Th

and it was so {a poem}

The ocean pounds against the sand.
Restless.
Hopeful.
Longing.

Prompted by the wind, the trees clap their hands.
Carefree.
Hopeful.
Longing.

The clouds drift across the sky, subject to the breeze’s whims.
Submitted.
Hopeful.
Longing.

The wind dances through the grass, riffling the blades like a sea of green.
Playful.
Hopeful.
Longing.

Like a sea of glass, the lake waits.
Quiet.
Hopeful.
Longing.

Suddenly, it happens.
Let there be light.
And there was light.

Creation spills from His fingertips.
They all have waited long for this moment.
The trees.
The seas.
The breeze.

Come into being, He whispers.
And it was so.

His world comes to life.
A brilliant landscape, straight from the mind of the King.

The ocean pounds against the sand, beating in tandem with His heartbeat.
Rhythmic.
Vibrant.
Alive.

The trees clap their hands in addition to the ocean’s song, enthusiastic applause for their Maker.
Joyful.
Vibrant.
Alive.

The clouds drift through the sky, subject to the Creator’s whims.
Humble.
Vibrant.
Alive.

The wind dances through the grass, riffling through the blades like a green sea bowing in adoration.
Worshipful.
Vibrant.
Alive.

Like a sea of glass, the lake waits to reflect His image.
Peaceful.
Vibrant.
Alive.

Slowly, it happens.
God saw it, and it was good.
Creation begins to sing.
They have waited long for this moment.
The trees.
The seas.
The breeze.

My delight is in you, He whispers.
And it was so.

Comments

  1. "Prompted by the wind, the trees clap their hands.
    Carefree.
    Hopeful.
    Longing."

    Mm. I love it.

    ReplyDelete

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