Awake

Butterfly Iris
Dietes grandiflora

Morning dew declares that there is freshness in the waking, the blooming into the unknown, the placing of one foot in front of the other toward the uncertain day. My garden whispers in flowers, telling me to look up and open up to what may be; even though they will never be able to reach over the fence, they are praising their Maker. Basting the breeze with song, the birds remind me of the joy that is Providence, even though they will spend the entire day laboring for their most basic needs. And the roly-poly relishes working his dank, dark, dirty soil, doing best what God made him to do.

"Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away, for behold, the winter is past; the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth, and the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land. The fig tree ripens its figs, and the vines are in blossom; they give forth fragrance. Arise my love, my beautiful one, and come away."  Song of Solomon 2:10-13