It was a cold and windy day
When I arrived in Petersville
The trading town was empty as the sacks upon my arms.
In one corner street
Lay the bar and breakfast hall
And a couple, deep in drunkeness, well-charmed.
The wintery air wraps around
And tempts the warmth within
Leaving me half-breathless for a longer time than aught.
A lone man, sitting shivering
Against the general store
Grabs my sleeve and gives me time for but a thought.
“This life is frozen as the air
And stagnant as the creek
And neither life nor limb it saves for pity or for gain.
I’ll never know the purposes
Behind just living here
And fruitless and despairing, I will die from bitter pain.”
On my way, I looked again
He curled inside his coat
To disappear forever from my sight.
I couldn’t help but wonder
Is this all I’m waiting for?
And the thought was left with me throughout the night.
– – –
It was a bright and quiet day
And my horse was very lean
As he pulled my wagon onward through the fields.
The rolling hills of Kansas
And the golden sheaves of wheat
Spoke of harvest and the bounty they would yield.
I came across a woman, who
With jaw intensely set
Carried water for the sickly and the weak.
With time aplenty now
I offered her a ride
And she turned to ask for knowledge I still seek.
“Good neighbor, hold and hear
See the gold about you now?
Is this place a random wonder or a present just for us?
I’ve looked for such an answer
And have found many a clue
But none in which my heart could give its trust.”
We continued on in silence
And the horse’s gait kept beat
‘Til her destination showed beside the maple grove
As I rode off and looked
To see her soldier in
My heart felt bitter empty, much despite her thoughtful trove.
– – –
The leaves upon the ground
Had fallen earlier that month
And the deer still haunted forests and the hills about my land
Inside, my kettle warmed
For neither stove nor hearth
Could keep the coming frosts from stealing what they can.
An unexpected knock
And a little girl appeared
Her face, the very elegance of childish delight.
With flowers in her hair
And wreathes upon her neck
She sang an answer clear and clever tuned.
“I’ve looked in every garden bed
And under every rock
And still I cannot answer every question that I ask.
But in my searches
Through the woods and hills
I’ve found what God intended, from the start of my long task:
“His glory plays inside the light
And dances in the streams
His praises echo from the canyons to the riverbeds
The trees in all the forests
Lift their branches up
And sing to Him whenever his breath blows throughout the lands.
“The sky, so blue! is vastly grand
And stretches forth its shades
To wake the mornings up from dark to light
And every deepening color
Plays a different tune
In the harmonies that ring about the clouds in playful fight.
“If God is not the answer
And His majesty not true
Then the emptiness that fills us won’t surprise a single one.
If to look, and then ignore
Is what we choose to do
Our questions will continue and our pathos linger on.”
I smiled at her joy
And she grinned and ran away
But not before I spoke to her of sharing what she knew.
If the woman with the water
Or the shivering man could hear
The wisdom that rushed forth from the mouth of but a girl.
What trusting it bespoke!
That a child should teach the old!
If my grounding were in simple faith and not in ways of men!
I would strive to comprehend
And not demand to understand
And grow my heart until I have a basic trust again!
In this way, I see
That the God of every tree
Is the God that made the stars that rule the skies.
And my faith need not be great
For the greatest faith of all
Is the kind that rests inside a child’s eyes.
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