Miles stretching as far as the eye can see, 

And breezes traveling from across distant lands, not only can we see, but also hear

the wind rushing through the valley,

up over and around each bend,

the wind speaks.

Climbing the steep inclines,

we buckled down 

and dug deep inside our core, and also in the dirt on the climb up.

The path riddled with rocks

and roots.

sometimes struggling to keep our eyes off our feet.

Look up!

God is is the blue, blue sky, the mist of clouds that roll

And settle in,

above me the heavens. implore me to think about them, 

to lose myself in dreams.

stop, and see stoney faces carved by the very hand of God, chiseled by the years and wearing of winds that God blows.

And yet, He whispers to me,

In the buzz of the bees… Hopping from flower to flower.

Splashes of vibrant colors..violets and yellows.

Purple for the Passion of the Lord,

Yellow for the hope of His Body rising from the grave.

On top of the world,

Looking down…the immensity is overwhelming and catches our breathe….

Thank you Lord for this day, this moment of time to sit here, 

in Your silence, as the wind blows, and bees buzz close whispering of Your love 

Delicately into our ears.