The air felt invigorating. Cool and breezy.
The blackberries moved along with the brambles
as I reached through thorns to grasp them.
A mother bird hovered nearby as I reached over her nest with one egg.
I quickly moved and worked a few feet away.
My hands held plump dark berries.
I became caught by my sleeves, and briars pricked my arms and hands.
Then I became calm, gently turned my arm
And pulled my hand back to the bowl.
Then I thought:
“Isn’t this the way it is with Spirit?”
Her wild and trailing growth.
Taking over and offering life.
If I’m brave enough to face the thorns.
Copyright June 2019, Charity M. Muse
