They Speak to My Soul


The tall pines that shade him
The flowers blooming about
Reaching earnestly for light
Extend their necks toward the sun
Their faces basking in its warmth
They seek light that enables growth.
I hear birds in song
They raise their voices in humble praise
The wind whispers with them
Commanding the tree tops to sway
To the beat of their tune.
My heart aches. It pains within me.
But all about is joyful.
As I sit at my father’s side
A grave cradling his lifeless temple
I take in my surroundings.
Each beautiful detail
Created by the great Master
Seeks to tell of Himself in all that eyes of men see.
I rejoice.
I feel each reminds me
This is not my home
Pointing to the one that is to come.
All that has life craves light
All that spring forth from roots
Thrust themselves towards it
Reminding me to so the same.
Every sound sings praise in this peaceful wood
Crying “worthy is the Lamb that was slain.”
I am reminded to give thanks.
To offer the sacrifice of praise.
Joy He can restore even amid pain
For though loss I have suffered
Through Christ my father has gained.
I grieve for his widow
For the fatherless youths he left behind
I grieve for myself
But not for him.
For “blessed are the dead…
They shall rest from their labor
Their works following them.”
Yes, this quite place speaks to my soul
“For the invisible things of Him from creation
of the world are seen clearly
Being understood by things that are made
even His eternal power and godhead”
Along with His grace that poured out upon my father
Now allows him to abide in His presence
And experience the fullness of joy
And pleasures forevermore at God’s right hand.

*Rom.1:19-20, Rev.14:13, Ps16:11
-Joy Phillips
November 6, 2013

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