Bending Towards His Light

Cool nights and brilliant stars; the old light finally entering my eyes.

Jupiter, last evening coming above the trees so brightly I could almost see the moons there. 

My Fall Clematis in full bloom up and down the entire length of the porch: clusters of stars fallen. What a smell of honey permeates;  the song of bees that accompany it every year; its' presence like an old friend who completes your thoughts. You cannot be beside it without giving it a full share of your attention. 

The sun coming to warm the wood and blossoms,
my sleepiness, my gratitude.

The air sings and I awaken within.  Their holiness a liturgy;
every morning until they are no more.

Oh, to open to God like opening to the morning light,
to become again what He is speaking us into being
if we would only listen and bend toward Him
all the glorious day.
 

Beside Honeysuckle

Oh, the sweet permeation of presence
like the point within
where Christ calls,
noticed finally
from neglect
or duty
or poor priorities,
but noticed
joyfully,
the Lord indwelling:

the trumpeting fragrance of
flowers rising
from black earth
and leafy tendrils;
as Jesus rising
for ages
above all darkness.