Breaking up the Weekly What routine with a poem:
Strolling briskly,
I pass some grass,
Shining brightly,
Covered in frost.
Though my fingers
I cannot feel,
The sight strikes me
As quite surreal.
Onto my chest,
I lay down flat
To see, up close,
The grass’s mask.
For a moment,
I am stunned
By the beauty
Of creation.
As I must leave,
Reluctantly,
I thank the Lord
For all I see.
I pause a bit,
Slowly thinking,
And then rephrase
What I was praying:
I thank the Lord
For all I see,
But also for
What is unseen:
The frosty air
Would dare blind me!
The wind would blur,
fog engulf me.
My Savior came
And died for me,
He is the Christ:
My King, unseen.
I walk inside,
Shake off the chill,
As I wonder
And ponder still.
One cannot help
But see beauty
In creation…
Give God all glory.
The answer to the last Weekly What (9) is “crescent moon”.