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Calling you home.

I learned all I know about joy, bliss, excitement, daring, wildness from the flowers. In the beginning the days of stories and adventures, there was  the lavender and me and the sunshine and  the grass smelling of blankets and daisies and roses and fairy tales.

Hedges, high ancient walls, Autumn leaves, trees , rivers and ponds to contemplate,jam jars to fill.

Always the clouds. Why did I look up so much I wonder?

They called it “God”.

And told me He was in a box inside the Church.

As if I had done something wrong then, I tried to please. Him.

That was impossible!

More than sixty years passed, before I knew that.

He is not in the box; the box the Church, the garden, the adventures, the tabpoles, the clouds, me and you are enraptured by Him as He is enraptured by Them and They are enraptured by Us.

The flowers teach you this, when you are very young and when you are very old , if you are lucky you listen again to them.

Calling you home.


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