Inspiration from Psalm 22, 46, 104 & 139

The buds of spring unravel,

color fills the forest.

Deep in the heart of man, a song breaks out,

rivaled by creation itself.

Like a fox trotting to his den,

the weary soul solaces in the warmth of its maker.

His vibrant works are clearly seen,

the fragrance of them bring delight.

“May they persist without end!”

The King is lifted high,

His name is praised.

All creation joins in harmonious agreement,

“Oh give thanks to the LORD; call upon His name.”

Shadows then creep across the valley,

the leaves start to shake.

The birds grow silent.

The trees moan and groan.

Ripples fill the stream as the sky grumbles.

Confusion screams out from the hills,

Fear laughs from behind the rocks.

Hearts look around and tremble,

the ground beneath them shifts.

Loud claps echo off the landscape,

the downcast one falls to his knees.

“Be not far from me,”

quivers the troubled man.

“Trouble is near and there is none to help.”

Anxiety’s whispers ride the wind.

Deception reaches out his brittle hand.

“Your Lord has left you; can’t you see?

Come save yourself and follow me.”

The stream’s flow spills over the banks,

agony saturates the sufferer.

His mind considers the glories of before,

the radiance of the sun and joy of the Lord.

He grieves his dreadful state

as Fear’s cackles grow louder

and Temptation rises from the mud.

“Have mercy Father,

make it stop; let it pass.

But though the earth gives way

and the mountains crumble,

Fear’s laughter will fall on deaf ears,

Confusion will run out of breath,

Anxiety will blow away,

Deception will crumble,

and Temptation will return to his pit.

You, however, will stay standing

with me in your arms.

My refuge, my rock,

I call upon your name.”

Lightning flashes.

The forest shines.

Through the stormy mist, vividness catches his eye.

The buds of spring dance,

bouncing with the punch of each droplet.

Warmth fills his shivering body,

joy floods his soggy soul.

“Oh, give thanks to the LORD; call upon His name!

For even darkness is as light to you.

Your works are wonderful,

you have again opened my eyes.”

Tears replace the rain rolling down his face.

Recollection of His Savior’s words bring gleeful silence

as the clouds begin to break overhead.

Hope in his Savior’s cross lifts him to his feet

as the waters begin to recede.

The sight of His Savior’s blossoms get him walking

as the mist lifts.

Light shines through the canopy,

growth explodes before him.

He praises the Lord for the squall,

he celebrates the sorrow.

If not for the rains, he would be incomplete,

his love for the Lord less than what it ought to be.

Now he sees more clearly

His Father’s works of beauty

The pedals of summer,

the buds of spring.