Sky-blue sunshine sanguinely wrapping me in God’s embracing warmth;
Sunday’s sermon spinning webbing on the golden evening’s walk.
Strolling, seeking solace, wishing for His gracious, echoic word.
Stopped silent, searching, wondering at garden’s effectual ways.
Surveyed scene stillframed, wandering ants going every where.
In prior poking, riled furtive ants by unsettling stone retreats.
I ponder purpose regarding flowers, toiling in subsurface realms.
In peaceful praise, restrained, fixated trees stand showing reticence.
I picture peaceful rocks and flowers taking silent Sabbath rest.
In placid pensive rumination flowing toward sentient sweet repose.
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