Is this how we learn?
The sun comes up, the moon goes down,
the wind turns the corner with a smile.
We go on. One chance each moment
together makes the present.
I buried a yesterday friend. Our lives
from sixty years gone. We are changed.
The tide has taken some, the waves
have thrown others up on the sand,
adrift these long years.
God is silent, but not without promise.
Within each grain of sand, the future
memories of a pearl will bloom. We create
with what's at hand. Do not cast away
the silence of your grief and grace,
the sun dropping behind the hills,
light cooling on your shoulders, the
stillness of the night spreading out like a
blanket under the trees, teaching you
the words you will learn by speaking.
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In the midst of wonderful imagery, we hear… “God is silent, but not without promise.”
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Thanks!
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Thanks!
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