I took a long walk this evening, beside Provo River. It was for the purpose of clearing my head and making some tough decisions. Along the path, I noticed some of the largest milkweed plants I have ever seen--and they were at that picture-perfect stage when the pod has popped open and the fluffy seeds are poised for flight. The sight brought to mind a Richard Wilbur poem I memorized years ago but hadn't thought of in a long time...
Anonymous as cherubs,
Over the crib of God,
White seeds are floating
Out of my burst pod.
What power had I
Before I learned to yield?
Shatter me, great wind;
I shall possess the field.
I'll not belabor the exquisite metaphor. Suffice it to say, the Lord is teaching me to yield my will to His.
1 comment:
you may be tempted to taste the milk in the milkweed plant, but it's bitter and unpleasant. i speak from experience.
Post a Comment