There is nothing more insular

Than a walk in Nature

Oblivious to Creation.

Simple walk . . . field and trees,

            Sweat on skin,

Pleasing breeze,

            Sun a fiery mass,

Randomly hung,

            Bee in need of flower,

            Flower needfully in wait.

Only one creature knows

A need beyond,

Past all Nature holds or shows,

            Given by giving Will —

Our emptiness fronts us,

            Longing for Fill —

Vast, magnetic grand Creation

Invites a hopeful, glad surrender.

We become the bee obedient,

Joyful need only flowers know,

Nature turns, when we turn —

            Made in awe of Maker.