In Refusal of Choice
Nature bleeds in radiant glory
Deposits of gleaming tint.
It’s found in the lily’s hiding spot
Down where the river grows bent.
It’s seen across the evening sky
Bookmarking the days at end.
Fear not when blending richness departs
In morning it comes again.
It lies, as well, in tendering heart
Of beauty’s engaging eyes,
As she longs that she may never leave,
Yet must for winged time flies.
It stands in nuance of mountain’s pools;
Its innocence safe from sound.
So undisturbed is its purity
Touching to comfort dry ground.
It lasts with strength of comradery,
The forest, its view, shows cast.
The power of the aspen or pine,
A few that provide the vast.
Colors serve as God’s divine polish.
We relish their every hue.
How quite demeaning to favor one?
The question I bring to you.
