Nature's Way - Fred LaMotte

The stillness
of the English primrose
in Winter,
furiously blooming
all by itself.
No gardener.
The rain turns to snow,
then back to rain,
without your decision,

or indecision.
No creator.
Morning does this.
Evening does that.
Yet somehow the moon
commingles with the sun
in a kind of diffuse
blue whiteness.
No painter.
And without your
assistance,
countless sentient beings
become themselves.
They choose, they act,
suffer consequences
and rewards,
and they are deeply grateful
to you
for this breath,
for this silence,
for not interfering.

Fred LaMotte
Uradiance

~

Photo - Mystic Meandering