After all the showers and rain,
The herbs and flowers all seem renewed.
The bubbling stream is fuller now,
And Swallowtails flutter by.
Old greying barn in the distance,
Still useful and Swallows twitter in sky.
Cerulean sky, with Cumulus clouds,
Making shadows on the meadow.
I walk away only to return at evening,
And then sit on steps watching fireflies.
Seeing lamps flickering I pause,
Sweet and sad, they communicate silently.
One comes nearer I watch in silence,
Flitting overhead, and I am put in mind of faith in God.


*Тадеус

Lavender sunset fills western sky
Crickets starts to sing their song.
As twilight fades into night shades,
I am utterly surrounded by God's love.
In darkest colours I see distant lightning,
And His love is all around me...
I am reminded of that from another,
A bloom of encouragement.
Even in the darkness now,
I remember by yon rose.
Lavender sunset and
Lavender rose.

*Тадеус

In spring when everything alive
and nature call to me of peace.
Nature call to me in every
breeze and silence.
God speaks
in nature.*

Тадеус

The little cares that fretted me,
I lost them yesterday,
Among the fields, above the sea,
Among the winds at play;
Among the lowing of the herds,
The rustling of the trees;
Among the singing of the birds,
The humming of the bees.

The foolish fears of what may happen,
I cast them all away
Among the clover-scented grass,
Among the new-mown hay;
Among the rustling of the corn,
Where drowsy poppies nod,
Where ill thoughts die and good are born
Out in the fields with God.



*Elizabeth Barrett Browning

I sought Him in temples where anthems swell
Stained glass windows and polished sermons suave;
Yet here I knew He did not dwell,
While poor child of dust creeps to his grave.

I sought Him in churches rustic and plain
Eager to drown my heartfelt sorrow,
These mockery so futile and vain
As I searched for a brighter morrow.

In meadow alone, a breeze touched my face
Whispering of days bygone, yet still dear
When life flowed at a leisurely pace
And I felt His presence - O! so near!

Bittersweet weeping of the mourning dove
Awakens me to sad pleading eyes
Shattering my heart with vials of love.
Forsaken man and beast hold God's disguise.

I see Him in each rippling blade of grass
When dew of morn glistens with His tears.
In moaning of wind I hear Him pass
Through aromatic pines and lose all fears.

God does not dwell in temples made with hand,
But speaks to us through each soughing pine.
Proud wealthiest mansions o'er all the land
Mocked by His majestic Hand divine.





**~Hilda~