Little Pictures Everywhere

There are little pictures everywhere...
A single red wildflower framed by
rocks & dead pine cones
Acres of deep-rooted trees still standing,
ghostly and smoky,
masterfully lit by a sun who hasn't been able to
spotlight much for days: a quilt of dense
clouds has kept all heat to themselves; but
this sun: glows w/a blue backdrop, silhouettes a hawk circling for supper & the waves of mt.tops in the horizon, exaggerates
the stark crystals of new snow on the
summits, & evokes the steam from Burgdendorf
that cleanses my skin and deflects trailing
evidence of the cold I've had for the
last 2 weeks...
The angle at which an old stump juts from the
wild earth
The arc of a clearing
A cacophony of colors created by seasonal change
How moisture glistens on a loved-one's lips that are
smiling beneath the chatter of a chipmunk
Night & day trading shifts
& how Payette Lake apparently feels quite serene about
both sun & moon at once reflecting on its surface


No camera does these little pictures justice
Which is why you must see them first
Know these artistic miracles existed before you ever saw--
they are, for the sake of being
You're being honored--the guest of honor--for a moment,
to Creation


No camera does these little pictures justice;
but if you don't capture them,
even superficially,
you'll forget them...
the same way you do: an electric glance
revelations on forgiveness
or to take your vitamins


You return to the photos
minutes
months
years later
& the intensities aren't right,
but you still sigh when
you see & remember


that there are little pictures everywhere
Little pictures made so small by the vastness of
the Universe
& so vivid for existing in
that eternity...


If those little pictures exist (as they do) everywhere,
can't then we as people
be as rugged, fragile, resistant,
honoring each other...


Can't we, too, be indicative of our Creator,
be, in fact,

little pictures everywhere

of
love?