Indian Summer at the Creek

Then I watched my children laughing and playing in the creek as a stranger might:

the glory of their beauty,

the strength of their young voices marveling at what they saw

and wondering at the cascade of water on rocks,

the buzz and trill of cicadas and crickets filling our ears with songs.


Then they talked to one another as the sun burned the backs of our necks

and we felt the soles of our feet on God’s miracle earth.

And even though it was just a Monday morning and we were just us,

there was the magnificence of creation

and our learning, growing, struggling selves in it.

Spirit hovering over the water, His own presence as real with us

as the wind rustling the brown leaves just overhead.

featured photo by Neil E. Das



One Comment

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  1. Thank you, Angela. This is really a lovely vignette of joy and wonder. Also, I think that it is, indeed, a gift to be able to see from the perspective of a stranger from time to time, from the third person.

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