Painting Revelation Blog
Morning Moon
by Debby Topliff on Oct 21, 08 • no comments • Share This
9 am October 21, 2008
Morning Moon
O morning moon
One quarter visible in the sky
Only my shadow
My placement here on earth
Hides your fullness from view
You hang brighter than a cloud
Following your set path through space
East to west as I watch
Yet in reality west to east
What other mathematical wonders
Deceive the naked eye?
What other bodies of illumination
Are blocked by my own dense presence?
If the eye is sound
The whole body is full of light
But a greedy eye
Is a door of darkness
O reflected glory
Refract generosity in me
Multiply, magnify, burn with focused beam
That with courage and beauty
I might complete my dance across the sky
True Colors
by Debby Topliff on Oct 15, 08 • no comments • Share This
It’s mid-October and the trees are quickly turning yellow and orange, red and brown. Although several factors combine to create this beautiful end-of-season display--like trapped glucose or waste products--the leaves’ true colors have been there all along, hidden behind the bright green chlorophyll. I can’t help but wonder if we, too, reveal our true colors as we age. When the beauty of youth drains away, we’re left with a wrinkled palette that can no longer conceal the attitude of mind and the direction of the heart. Will resentments and long-held grudges appear like blots and holes in our countenance, or will joy and peace--those over-used but under-experienced qualities--enable us to shine with the certainty that when the time comes to let go of the branch and drift to the ground, all of Heaven’s promises will be proven true?
Peterson Nature Preserve, Saugatuck, MI
Growing
by Debby Topliff on Oct 10, 08 • no comments • Share This
It was early July when I found a tiny praying mantis recently hatched from its egg case. Then a couple weeks later I spotted it--or one of its nest mates--half-grown. Now it’s Autumn and as I was flicking fallen leaves from the mum plants I was going to use to decorate my daughter’s wedding, I was shocked to see one leaf was actually a full-grown praying mantis. It sprung from my hand and to the base of the forsythia bush where I’d first hung the egg case last spring. It was no longer content to sit on my finger and in fact seemed quite afraid as it extended its praying hands into a defensive position.
Full-Grown Praying Mantis
A queen snake visited me again last week also. My daughter and I were looking at the clearing in the woods--on a point overlooking the ravine and nature preserve where she was going to say her wedding vows--when we spotted a small coiled snake in the middle of the knoll where the ceremony would take place. As I bent closer, the snake spit a long red tongue at me and hissed as our dog nosed his way in. I picked it up with a stick and the creature continued to lunge and curse. I tossed it down the ravine and quickly said a protective prayer for the woods, the wedding, the marriage, and the upcoming celebration.
Our daughter is married. A new chapter has begun. Fall has arrived. I’m startled by the red and yellow maple leaves peeking from behind the soft green needles of the white pines like a curtain for the next act when a whole new set will be revealed. The sun no longer warms our deck; its weakening rays have dipped below the tree tops. Winter is coming. The news is bleak. We must huddle and regroup, reassess our treasures, solidify our trust in God. I gave a toast at the wedding, addressed the 100 guests squeezed under the tents on our deck, and confessed that autumn is my saddest season. That I love spring and daffodils and new growth. And the naked freedom of summer. And even the harsh simplicity of winter. I don’t like to see the backside of the sun. But fall has its purpose. Ripened fruit holds the seeds of next year’s life. Autumn is a call to seriousness, to planning and saving, to bravery and hope,
I am so glad our daughter found her husband--and he her. They met on a train and I know they are on the same journey together. May each of us find those who have the same destination in sight and may we go forward, helping one another, until we all find our way home.