Notice how she has ripped her dress
to shreds in order to lasso the bloom
and drag it to where she has the notion might be
safe. Which clearly it isn't.
All this is happening in the dark rain
of promise (rainbow sky in the background
behind the black leaves). AND she
is not glibly whistling along as if there is
no battle. There is. AND she KNOWS she is
on holy ground, thus the absence of shoes.
As I wake each morn to a new and wonderful day, I realize my God has hold of me as I hold onto His promises so well instilled within my soul.
ReplyDeleteThis picture imulates my life.