Some Reflections on Nature

It's Snowing

Dear God, You make it look so clean,
this dirt and grime outside.
This snow has covered everything,
as Your blood has cleansed your bride.

We stand in awe before the scene,
as limbs and boughs stoop down.
Your sparrows now are hunting food,
upon the frozen ground.

“We’re in His care” they seem to say,
as here and there they spy,
the food you've hidden just for them,
in nook and crannies nearby.

The Sun is hid. The moon and stars
are shaded by your snow.
All’s quiet and still throughout the woods,
no wind , no chill breezes blow.

The rabbits and chipmunks too,
are scurrying for their meal.
The squirrel has long since gone to bed,
his fur-lined nest does appeal.

The lambs and pigs come on,
the cattle come a looing home.
The chickens have all gone to roost,
the dog gnaws on his bone.

We reach and get our old Guidebook,
You've left for us to learn.
We see the wonders of Your love
and pray for Your return.

Elva M. Rice
February 6, 1979

The Birds

I sit here, looking at the hill,
where everything’s so quiet and still.
The katydids are in full swing,
you know it’s fall, not spring.

For in spring the whippoorwills
resound and echo through these hills.
The robin and cardinal too,
the hawk, the crow and birds of blue.

When summer comes, their young to raise,
their nieces sing their Maker’s praise.
Among the leaves upon the ground,
they know their food can then be found.

Our God gives them fruits and berries too,
to feed their young until they grew.
He gave them worms and gnats and flies,
to close young mouths and stop their cries.

Tis summer now, their nests are bare.
The young have flown and they’re not there.
Perched high on limb and fence and vine,
a warning sung, it’s end of summer time.

The leaves will soon fall to ground,
these birds will not be seen around.
You'll look to see where they have gone
and realize they all have flown.

They’re flying south while times are good.
They gather here, they know they should.
For fall’s here and well they know
to warmer climes they now must go.

They try their wings, their strength to know,
for miles and miles they now must go.
They know this food is well nigh spent,
and times are as their Maker meant.

They'll sail away to warmer climes,
where food and shelter they will find.
They'll bask in wind and sun, and rain
and wait for spring and come again.

For aeons now, each year they make
this trip for their survival’s sake.
His plans for them have never failed
as through the skies they swiftly sail.

Their Maker sees, He knows, He cares,
He gives them help, and food He shares.
He made them and knows their end,
their paths charted, watched by Him.

He watches, and if one should fall,
He sees, He cares, He knows it all.
Through ways He cares for them and does.
We know He cares and watches us.

Elva M. Rice
September 4, 1978

Written at Gene’s house.