Its Passing By

I love how the mountains melt into hills and then into plains
and pour out into rushing rivers rolling towards the sea;
how the blue sky encloses all and finally reveals nature's wider form
in the dark of night, away from the light, when all is stark and clear;
where some great fir trees obscure the vast sight,
the only little thing between me and light years inbetween,
where the intricacies of the scattered starlight merge with the image of the brushing 
patterned with the waving pinecones and shuddering needlings upon the trees;
when dawn comes and paints a piece to rival the greatest mastery of men -
it happens so faultlessly without effort or our haunting remorse -
then the ghostly whisps of nightly clouds warm to mend my broken heart,
and remind the inner man, my soul, that nature herself, though pained,
makes still and subtly so glory in its passing by.

Featured image: ‘The Teton Range,’ by Thomas Moran (1897), image in the public domain.

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2 thoughts on “Its Passing By”

  1. It’s amazing that nature! God made her so strong yet so vulnerable. And, she maintains her long standing presence while mankind fades so quickly like the grass or flower of the field. Thank God for Isaiah 65:22! Thank God for Jesus!


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