The Walk

Walking around the water

On the paved path

that others have walked before me

 

I see squirrels chase each other

Wrapping around a tree trunk

One rests to nibble a nut

Sees me

Scurries up the tree

 

Walking around the water

On the paved path

that others have walked before me

 

An orange and white fish appears

A flower among the lily pads

Just below the surface of the water

Placing his hopes in a leaf

That he finds is not bread

On he swims

Looking

 

Walking around the water

On the paved path

that others have walked before me

 

The willow weeps

Its leaves nearly gone.

This place must be beautiful in the summer

I think

Today it just looks dead.

 

“It’s not dead,” a voice says. “It only looks dead because you cannot see flowers or fruit. But it is not dead. Underneath every surface – water, soil, bark – is life, ready and waiting. Everything conserves its energy for the time of growth and fruitfulness.”

 

He is beside me

And I take His arm

He has wrapped himself in light again

So bright that I cannot see His face

But I can still see His feet.

As we walk

Arm and arm

I’ve no idea where He is leading

My eyes are fixed on His feet

Every place He steps

springs to life

 

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