Clouds and Crowns No.5

The overture of forests, dead, remade,
Whispers pianissimo through leaves.
Although the burnt-out wilderness still grieves
And ashen dust hangs densely in the shade,
The smallest stems of green, a micro-glade,
Peek out through fire-black trunks in smoky breeze,
The first-fruits of our chlorophyll reprieves,
The peaceful eye after the storm is paid.
All this shakes truth into my watching eye,
A child-explorer longing for new lands.
As eucalypts bring me back to the earth
And disappointment whimpers like a sigh,
Green miracles are woven by Your hands
And I am caught by wonders of new birth.

Published by Matthew Pullar

Teacher, writer, blogger, husband, father, Christian. Living in Wyndham in Melbourne's west, on the land of the Kulin Nation. Searching for words to console and feed hearts and souls.

2 thoughts on “Clouds and Crowns No.5

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