The Bur Oak Tree

I enjoy the serene offerings

of cornflower blue lantana,

the pleasing scent

of yellow shrub roses,

the moonlight glow

of the blue plumbago

that all grow near or under

the canopy of this strong

bur oak, a shield and protector 

in this tiny garden I roam.  

This day, this hard day when 

life is set in an overdrive

of work and emotion,

I sit under the autumn

leaves and spiny acorns

bursting open in fiery 

displays, such beauty 

in so small a place, 

and I wonder

how many would stand

here, their feet in my place,

looking up at this wonder,

contemplating the whole

universe upon universe

of creation, overwhelmed

as I am in the realization 

that even the beauty 

of this one lone bur oak tree

silences me in awe

before a God who knows

every root of this tree,

every vein in me,

every connection to all

life here and before

and to the endless age

of forevermore.

In this moment my faith

stretches beyond the edges

of skin, and I am calmed

by the glory of the infinite.

— C.L. Fisher, November 2020

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