FIELDS OF GOLD

Somber morning,

Dark clouds hang

Low in northern sky.

Beyond the river,

Barely visible,

A streak of light

Kisses the hills.

Below my ridge,

Drab fields and

Bare, dark trees

Stretch heavenward.

Until the sun arrives,

Spilling brilliant rays

Across the valley,

Turning all to gold.

Isn't that how it is some days?

All looks dark and depressing until God rushes in and transforms the landscape of our circumstances.

Arise, shine, for your light has come,
and the glory of the Lord rises upon you.
Isaiah 60:1

Labels: photograpy, poetry, winter