Living (a poem)

 

 

 

 

So often I live my life skimming the surface
Never plunging into its depths
Never experiencing the exhilaration
Of really, truly living.

The sun rises and sets
Yet I miss the brilliance of a thousand colors
My breath is not taken away
My heart does not skip a beat.

Oh that I would pause and take it in
To see the majesty of God’s handiwork
To marvel at His masterpiece unfolding
Always changing, always new.

New buds swell on stalks and limbs
Desiring to burst into brilliant life
To declare with many-hued voices
We are alive to the glory of our Maker!

To stop and see, to touch, to ponder
How the seasons change
Winter to Spring, Summer to Autumn
Guided by the Unseen hand of God.

In the song of a Robin
In the chirps of crickets
In the feel of the rain
The Author of Life reveals Himself.

But I skim along, distracted and unaware
Living life yet not truly living
May He who made all things
Waken me from this slumber
That I might plunge deep and deeper still
Into the beauty, the majesty, the glory
Of all that His hands have fashioned
And in those depths find joy, find peace, find life.