A Spring flower pokes through the ground…
And one sees the end of all winter;
One sees a sign of hope;
One sees a fragile creature doomed to the next bite of frost.
Pushing up through the ground in search of the sun,
This little one
Some see it as a thing for them –
To determine the worth and valor.
But maybe, just maybe, this little one
Who chooses a journey
Many wise ones would dare not take
Is the one who really finds the presence of God –
Even in the passing shadow of a photographer.
It amazes me what some people see,
Because they always look outward for signs of God’s presence.
They only share what’s inside in
A hope fueled by vanity
To cultivate or force faith upon another.
Some never venture into the Resurrection that lies within –
the scary place
Of dormant seasons
And long waits.
What does the crocus see on its journey?
What does the missionary see as they journey to new places?
Is God only found in what we describe or is profundity procured perfectly when we look inside for peace.