poetry

When I was home this week (I'll tell you about that in the next post) I rediscovered poetry and how much God speaks to me through it. Especially poems by Wendell Berry. They are like a small surprise gift. Here's a lovely little one for you to nibble on:

Dust

The dust motes float

and swerve in the sunbeam,

as lively as worlds,

and I remember my brother

when we were boys:

"We may be living on an atom 

in somebody's wallpaper."