So Every Day
So every day I was surrounded by the beautiful crying forth of the ideas of God,
one of which was you.
This morning the lake looked like an antique window pane. Violet-green Swallow touch the surface causing gentle concentric circles to interrupt, albeit briefly, the stillness of the glass. Their voices sound like happiness on the wing. I imagine if the swallows had ribbons they would weave the most beautiful May Day basket around a May Pole – the multi-colored streamers would wave in the breeze.
And joy would cry forth.