by Chris Denny
Up the hill we walked
And we turned aside to see
The river flowing in the bend
And we waited.
The buzzards circled in the distance.
Yucca grew from a stump.
Deer tracks at our feet,
Creation had waited before.
Red orange slivers cut the distant clouds
Slowly, so patiently slow
And we turned aside to see
The river flowing in the bend
And we waited.
The buzzards circled in the distance.
Yucca grew from a stump.
Deer tracks at our feet,
Creation had waited before.
Red orange slivers cut the distant clouds
Slowly, so patiently slow
the sky grew orange.
And then it seemed as if
And then it seemed as if
Earth gave birth to a son.
The bright orb rose quickly
Bathing the hillside in light.
And sister Moon watched her brother
From her perch in the sky
Her face half turned beckoning
Him to come out and play.
The bright orb rose quickly
Bathing the hillside in light.
And sister Moon watched her brother
From her perch in the sky
Her face half turned beckoning
Him to come out and play.
_____________
The above reflection/prayer was written while I was at Mo Ranch in Texas during a week of self reflection and discernment called CREDO.
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