A dead tree pays honor to the beauty of a brilliant sunset;
A memory of love yields its capacity to the hope of new love;
The brokenness of age contrasts the perfection of a newborn’s cry;
The faded bloom is outperformed by the brightness of a new bud;
The cry of pain soon gives way to the joy of healing;
A fierce storm ushers in a birdsong morning;
Ancient eyes stare into the innocence of youth.
The world keeps turning.
Life regenerates.
The old is but a memory of what used to be.
Yet…the old, the storm, the brokenness, the pain - are still honored, cherished, found beautiful, in what they invite into the now. Selah.
"To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven." Ecclesiastes 3:1
