August 13, 2012

Simple

Simple
Is made up of a hundred thousand not-so-simple things.
It's a light machine
Moved by cogs and pistons unseen.
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Simple
Is a beauty so alive and magnificent 
It leaves you breathless;
And yet comes so silently, 
You are not aware of its presence until it is there,
Almost gone,
Passing through and ever forward.
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Simple changes.
What was Simple a year ago
Is no longer what Simple looks like today.
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Simple is a feeling,
A thought,
An idea,
An ideal.
We strive for simplicity,
But it is rarely something to be caught,
It is something we find.
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The best things are Simple.
Simply happy,
Simply loved,
Simply radiant,
Simply peaceful.
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These days I am discovering the purest, simplest of joys,
More and more,
Day by day.
It's something I catch in the rising sun each morning as I read my Bible,
Those moments when the house is still and I am alone with God.
It's tangible in the feel of cold damp grass, 
The shade of a tree,
And a good book to go with.
It's given in conversation with a friend,
Miles away,
And yet so close.
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These days harbor more than light,
Less than pain.
For every ounce of sunshine,
Three of joy.
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We live in a world of 
Ashes to ashes,
Dust to dust.
Well,
Come with me and I will show you beauty in a handful of dust. 
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{All photos courtesy of Pinterest and Weheartit}

2 comments:

Mary said...

Amen! Beautiful, dear. Simply lovely.

Abi said...

Beautiful.