The call of the 
crimson cardinal
perched high on the bare brown branches
of a winterized tree…
or 
the breath of a 
warm autumn breeze
stirring up suddenly
just to wash over me…
or
the sight of those 
deep summer blooms
bursting about to spread
the peaceful notes they sing…
or
the smell of the 
damp birthing dirt
waiting to provide 
all the hopeful colors of spring…
or
maybe It rises
anew 
each morning
as the sun peeks out its glow
from behind the mountain edges
far beyond my kitchen window…

Wherever, 
whenever,
however,
dear Lord,
may Your Wisdom 
into me
always flow.