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| To sense creation anticipating the dawn. To observe in winter, trees waiting for spring to come. To see an egg waiting to be born. To behold God in all things, to know how he should be adorned. I can conceive, seeing the waters returning from whence they came. Telling stories of the mother to their father the sea. Reciting their paths and gatherings in the great play. I envision God's might like a river, and I like a stone, which falls into its' current. Did you know the splendor of this dirty rock, as I fell unto you, stream. I deeming myself an ugly rock, tell you open my yes to see. With your current you tumble me, till my rough edges are worn. Surely your care is evident as I feel not any pain. Undoubtedly it is your nature to bring form to me, as I concede unto your force. Transforming me into a glistening pebble on the floor of your waters. Making me so splended, so that even I begin to marvel at the beauty that was hidden within. |
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