August 13, 2012


Is made up of a hundred thousand not-so-simple things.
It's a light machine
Moved by cogs and pistons unseen.
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.
Simple changes.
What was Simple a year ago
Is no longer what Simple looks like today.
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.
The best things are Simple.
Simply happy,
Simply loved,
Simply radiant,
Simply peaceful.
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.
These days harbor more than light,
Less than pain.
For every ounce of sunshine,
Three of joy.
We live in a world of 
Ashes to ashes,
Dust to dust.
Come with me and I will show you beauty in a handful of dust. 
{All photos courtesy of Pinterest and Weheartit}


Mary said...

Amen! Beautiful, dear. Simply lovely.

Abi said...