True Weather
The weather outside changes,
made fickle by the mountains and winds,
storms one minute,
peace and sun the next,
a puzzle of uncertainty,
unpredictable
with it's anger and joy.
But here in the sanctuary
of your soul,
all is peace,
a focus not on the world,
but the silence
that sings to God each morning
and is cradled by him
each night.
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The picture was taken at a house in Washington Country, New York. You can click on it for a larger version.
Tom
4 comments:
What a comforting idea... our nights being "cradled" by God. I am glad I saw this poem this morning.
thank you, Tom.
Beautiful.
Hi Tom,
Nice words and thought.
I like to think my soul is a sanctuary of peace. Lovely poem, Tom.
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