Suburbia burns silently
White candles burst in
Choreographed conflagration
Graceful limbs engulfed in
Fleeting crowns of pastel flame
Ablaze yet not consumed
Sophisticated minds swear blind
Such subtle orchestrations are but
Skittering showers of sparks
Accidentals struck loose by the
Wild, chaotic wheels of
Dogged chance
But is it so?
Are we determined by
Mechanical necessity
Some poverty of spirit to
Impute poetic grace sublime
Each painstaking design
To mute, unthinking fluke?
Or does He whose voice
In steady certitude
Called from in a burning bush
Speak yet in this quiet inferno
Blazing at the dawn of spring?
Do we yet stand on holy ground?
The featured image is courtesy of Lancia E. Smith and is used with her glad permission for Cultivating and The Cultivating Project.
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A Field Guide to Cultivating ~ Essentials to Cultivating a Whole Life, Rooted in Christ, and Flourishing in Fellowship
Enjoy our gift to you as our Welcome to Cultivating! Discover the purpose of The Cultivating Project, and how you might find a "What, you too?" experience here with this fellowship of makers!
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