BitterSweetLife

What the World Said This Morning

The world has weight. This morning the cool September air rested on my arm with palpable pressure, like an infant's hand. Creation was conscious, aware of itself and of me, and willing to talk. The trees and sky and sun were murmuring a coded language of green and gold and blue, demanding my attention gently but insistently.

You are beautiful, I say to them. But they have a rejoinder, they are not taken aback; they do not flush and look away: Look past us, they say. We are only emissaries.

And I realize these are not fairies I am flirting with, not will o' the wisps. They are giants with a cosmic agenda (Romans 8:19-22). They are signposts with a stake in the journey (Romans 1:20). They are beautiful but hard. Towering sentries, unrelenting witnesses, they have a message and they intend to get it out.

And despite the noise of the city, the buzz of the freeways, the cracking of asphalt and the smashing of glass, they did speak, and eloquently at that.