Poetry on God's Creation "And creation's wonders are but the outer fringe of God's works; how faint the whisper we hear of him!"---Job 26: 14
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Birches at Dusk
Pale white trees in the silver dusk, Silent leaves through the sunset hills, Drifting blooms in the breathless air: Songs of Spring on the sparrow bills; Gentle, gracious, heaving Wind Catching trees with the fingered fist Corpulent moon on the bannered sky Waiting amongst the grass-blown wisps. Birches, fragrant and bending low, Wait for the times of integral sun: Flowering stalks, Springtime dawn Red, on the brow of the river's run.