Rick and Monique

Sunday, October 28, 2007

Autumn Sabbath

The sun wakes, breaking the rim of the earth and Iowa and points over and toward a freckled yellow tree. A tortured misunderstood color or a glorious one that verily blooms vibrant in the sun before any others have a chance at revelation? As if Autumn Yellow were queen, a lady at peace before her king of Spring. The spotlight on her she rules and sings and cries out and maybe she always has?

Like most I wasn't listening. I didn't notice she was coming until she'd arrived.

Yellow. To torture me or please me I noticed the Sabbath maple lift her worship. The yawning sun touches the others like her and they step into view, their branches and fingers open and Praise! Oh Praise! I am here!

I love the choir.

1 comment:

Gina Hostetler said...

Beautiful, Rick. Right now our lawn is filling up with this praise...but there is no season like it.