Through His Eyes

Through his eyes I see the meadow spread out before me, and the trees swaying in the wind, and the silvery brook flowing out from the spring.

     Through his eyes I see the dew sparkling on the grass, and the flowers turning towards the sun, and everything hidden in the shadows.          

          Through his eyes I see every furtive step, every wary glance of the unsuspecting creatures below, and nothing that moves escapes my notice.

Lightning Flash

"Sometimes truth is like a flash of lightning on a dark night.  For just a second, a split second really, everything becomes visible.  And then, just as quickly, the flash disappears and the darkness returns. Still, one doesn't forget what one has seen when the lightning flashes."

In the Land of the Blue Burqas, Kate McCord

Soul friends

Oh the finest food is found in their presence,

the beautiful unveiling of our hearts,

the treasured conversation, 

the knitting of our souls, 

the Master's precious workmanship of art.

What did He look like?

I find it odd that we are never told 

what He looks like.

For instance, what color was His hair?

Was his complexion dark, fair, or ruddy?

Was He heavy set or lean?

Was He tall or short?

But His words paint a picture of His beauty, 

And the Spirit shines His image in our hearts.

And like a diamond reveals its glory 

in countless facets, so we see His face.

And those who know Him 

are the stage upon which He plays,

in thousands of places each day.