He does not come to me in the gaudy church where the proud would buy His wisdom with coin and hollow gesture, where the authoritarian bureaucrat rules and arrogance abounds. Nor does He come to me in the glaring lights of the city where the financial machine rattles and the greedy bow to the golden idol.
He whispers His wisdom in the quiet forest and on moonless nights under the cloudless dome, and in the sea spray and the crashing waves, in the wings of a fluttering butterfly, and in the dove’s song. I feel His warmth in the Spring sun and I accept the truth that I am one with Him and these. I will take from this Earth only what I need. I need not have dominion over any of it and I will stand humble before Him and marvel in awe at His creation. I will not be afraid of failure or death. I am what He made me. I will live each day that I am given with gratitude and to the best of my ability. I will bear my fruits and return to the Creator, He who gave me life.
Dan Bowlds
He whispers His wisdom in the quiet forest and on moonless nights under the cloudless dome, and in the sea spray and the crashing waves, in the wings of a fluttering butterfly, and in the dove’s song. I feel His warmth in the Spring sun and I accept the truth that I am one with Him and these. I will take from this Earth only what I need. I need not have dominion over any of it and I will stand humble before Him and marvel in awe at His creation. I will not be afraid of failure or death. I am what He made me. I will live each day that I am given with gratitude and to the best of my ability. I will bear my fruits and return to the Creator, He who gave me life.
Dan Bowlds
