Sunday, March 29, 2015

The World is Almost Too Beautiful

The world is almost too beautiful. The variegated petals of a tulip, the wisps of straw fluttering from the open door of the white birdhouse where sparrows are once again busy setting up housekeeping, the way the light looks on a late March afternoon when you’re not yet used to the lingering softness of the light. It is almost too beautiful, almost, until you remember, your throat aching with mingled joy and sorrow, the echoing beauties of redemption, forgiveness, release, and deep, deep peace. And you recall the beauty of the Author of it all, beauty past recounting, rhyme or reason, beauty that can only make you stutter in worship and fall down in praise. 

(Just a little prose poem on this Palm Sunday.) 


Erin said...

Ahhhh, lovely. :)

Beth said...

Thanks! ;-) I realized after I wrote this that it sounded like we had tulips blooming somewhere nearby. Definitely no tulips yet! But I saw a lovely picture of some tulips that got me thinking and writing.