Behold


Look what he made!
Behold its majesty.
Look at the intricacy!
Behold its grace.

An owl calls out low and peaceful: beckoning.
Crickets hum -- soft and mellow: the sound on the edge of evening.
Sun shines warm in the western sky 
  lighting waves of golden grass that rustle
   in song,
 with whistling birds and cooling breeze.
Far below, the sea reaches out to the horizon and from there 
  to the far shore of dreams -- rushing back at me.
Sentinel trees shoot up green in the distance,
And creation sings: rejoice, rejoice!
It stands perfect here; 
  just as this small thistle, 
    a trail of ants upon its brow.
Oh gracious God, how wonderful is your work,
 how much joy is your presence.
I stand on your sacred soil --
  my flesh is your clay.
Your soil, your clay.

Walking along,
 I stand now at the threshold of an old house.
It lies in disarray,
 it did not stand the storm, the fires have burnt it out.
Naught is left but broken timbers, ashes, 
 cracked and warped windows,
 all withered, all barren. 
It is the house my pride built.

But there! 
  There is a small shoot of green grass!
A seedling too!
The new and ancient foundation, the life, 
  it has been put down, 
And the seed, already, 
  it has sprouted!

Rejoice!  

The living foundation of living truth, 
  it is sprouted! 
The life of Christ --
  He is risen!
His life springs eternal! 

I reach out in love my God, 
I reach out!
My promise I give.
I nourish the new life, 
I guard it. 
I water the soil.

Lift up your son O God: 
I am before you, rejoicing in your grace, 
Rejoicing in the gift of new life.
I lift up praise.