Morning
The raspberries are full and red, hung with
the coolness of last night's rain.
Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good.
His love endures forever.
Wet, the kale bows in long arcs, heavy
with golden fingers of seed pods.
Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good.
His love endures forever.
Zucchini puts forth yellow flowers, cucumber
does so too, turning water into flesh, green.
Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good.
His love endures forever.
Black-eyed susans and blueberries flank
the garden, pert, sun-hopeful.
Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good.
His love endures forever.
And the catbird, grey, presides over all,
considering what will make his breakfast.
Give thanks, give thanks.
To the Lord. For He is good.
Yellow-fluted, blue-fringed, red-fatted,
grey-arched, sprung with crystal upon
crystal, His Love. Endures.
Forever.
the coolness of last night's rain.
Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good.
His love endures forever.
Wet, the kale bows in long arcs, heavy
with golden fingers of seed pods.
Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good.
His love endures forever.
Zucchini puts forth yellow flowers, cucumber
does so too, turning water into flesh, green.
Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good.
His love endures forever.
Black-eyed susans and blueberries flank
the garden, pert, sun-hopeful.
Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good.
His love endures forever.
And the catbird, grey, presides over all,
considering what will make his breakfast.
Give thanks, give thanks.
To the Lord. For He is good.
Yellow-fluted, blue-fringed, red-fatted,
grey-arched, sprung with crystal upon
crystal, His Love. Endures.
Forever.
Labels: creation, prayer of adoration, Psalms
posted by L.L. Barkat at
10:19 AM
3 Comments:
FROM REAL LIVE PREACHER:
Lovely. I think my favorite thing here. Oh, I don't know. that's kind of impulsive but good writing does that to me. Your work here reminds me of this poem:
Glory be to God for dappled things-
For skies of couple-colour as a brindled cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced-fold, fallow, and plough;
And all trades- their gear and tackle and trim.
All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers forth whose beauty is past change;
Praise him.
Gerard Manley Hopkins
I second the first comment. Hopkins' poem and yours both praise so authentically, from a child-like place that still values the simple, earthy beauty that shows so clearly--His love endures forever.
lovely....I've been reading your poetry for a while, and I really enjoy what you have been sharing!
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