' Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord.' Isaiah 2:3
Several things have caught my eye these past few days.
The bright blue of the stately Dutch Iris .
The raindrops, clusters of them, on the Camellia bush, which by the way is flowering prolifically with soft pink blooms.
The two magpies on the power line, warbling, singing to each other about the coming day.
And the sunset last night that burst, literally burst from the grey clouds, in a blaze of gold, showering fine dust rays of gold across the mountains , tree tops and valleys.
I read this from Mary Oliver's poems:
It doesn't have to be the blue iris, it can be weeds in a vacant lot, or a few small stones, just pay attention, then patch a few words together and don't try to make them elaborate, it isn't a contest, but a doorway, into thanks, and a silence in which another doorway may speak.
Grace and peace from the Lord Jesus Christ.
Anne
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