By J Ann Crowder

In trial we struggle like the last leaf dangling by her last weakening fibers, holding onto the vine with her last strength. Little do the leaves know how they burst with fire, igniting our world with autumn’s delight. Little do the leaves know how they nourish the soil beneath them, until a vibrant spring is born. Hence, our toil is but part of the grand miracle, where magic and beauty reside.


Written March 1st, 2017.

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Robert L. Martin
almost 3 years

If they only knew how valuable they are to our Mother Nature

Nelson D Reyes
almost 3 years

Dust to dust a resurrection of life, up and down seasonal changes we accept, we endure, we delight as well. Looking to Easter.
Thank you Jenifer. Love this musing.

Vic
almost 3 years

Indeed!

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Nelson D Reyes
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