In the Light

I walked through the woods

Your tiny hand clutched in mine

And together we looked at the trees.

I love them here.

They grow crooked,

All of them.

Bent by wind and storms,

Some even broken.

And yet, they are still beautiful,

Their fingers reaching upward,

Almost touching the sky.

Then the sun broke through the clouds

And it drenched me in its light and warmth.

In this season that is not traditionally

Or obviously beautiful or pleasant,

Where the trees and landscape are stripped

Of their once beautiful foliage,

Where their limbs stretch,

Naked and exposed

Against the gray wintry sky,

Where the air is so cold it bites

And cheeks sting

And tears burn.

Here in this barren landscape

The light seems somehow brighter

Warmer

Perhaps by contrast

With the passing glories,

Crunching underfoot,

Feeding the earth

Guided by the cycles of life that God Himself set up,

Here in the sunlight

In the Son’s light

There is healing.

1 John 1 7

Photo Credit (with inserted scripture): Han Lahandoe via spark

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