Eggs arrive
one-a-day,
like manna.
We run
to check
the nest box,
Israelites leaping
at first light,
hands open,
to gather
the mystery
of provision
from
unlikely
places.
Linking with Playdates with God and the Unforced Rhythms community.
Eggs arrive
one-a-day,
like manna.
We run
to check
the nest box,
Israelites leaping
at first light,
hands open,
to gather
the mystery
of provision
from
unlikely
places.
Linking with Playdates with God and the Unforced Rhythms community.
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So very true – He astounds us with provision in & from the most unlikely places. Glad we were neighbors at Playdates today. Blessings!
Thanks, Friend.
I love the imagery of this poem. May I always accept his provision with a thankful heart, and never take it for granted. I am stopping by from Unforced rhythms.
The feeling of a fresh, warm egg in your hand is something to marvel. Thanks for commenting.
And keeping the open hand, this is the challenge, isn't it? So lovely, Kelly. Brought back memories from my childhood of gathering eggs.
Yes, Laura. I learned a few weeks ago that my "little house" here for reading, writing and prayer, used to be the chicken coop with nesting boxes lined up all along one wall. That seems like a lovely metaphor to me. 🙂
Such a beautiful mystery, friend… and how you see this in these simple moments, bringing them to life for us in a few vivid phrases, is delightful to me.
Thanks, Amber. These chickens are teaching me.
Kelly,
I enjoy how you string together words in unlikely ways to create beauty…Thank you 🙂