The heart grows colder,
When it finds no delight,
In a child’s laughter,
Or a hummingbird’s flight.

The soul does wither,
When it ceases to see,
the wonder in a flower,
Or a honeybee.

The mind becomes dull,
When it does not expand,
To see in nature,
God’s glorious hand.

The spirit sinks,
When it no longer feels,
The thrill of lightning,
Flashing over the hills.

Mark Tinjum   –   2016