Full house this weekend
with college sons home and
now it is quiet. Good appt.
on my hip on Saturday.
Still exercising to get more
flexibility. Thankful for grace.
I saw it in many tiny ways.
The poem below says:
"How flawless its grace is."
I love that line.
It is , isn't it.
And of course the last line
strikes deep to a gal with
Said better than I could say!
for Gurney Norman, quoting him
The woods is shining this morning.
Red, gold and green, the leaves
lie on the ground, or fall,
or hang full of light in the air still.
Perfect in its rise and in its fall, it takes
the place it has been coming to forever.
It has not hastened here, or lagged.
See how surely it has sought itself,
its roots passing lordly through the earth.
See how without confusion it is
all that it is, and how flawless
its grace is. Running or walking, the way
is the same. Be still. Be still.“He moves your bones, and the way is clear."