A Summer Creed - By A.A. Argow

A Summer Creed
A.A. Argow

I believe in the flowers, and their glorious indifference to the changes of the morrow.

I believe in the birds, and their implicit trust in the loving Providence that feeds them.

I believe in the prayer-chanting brooks, as they murmur a sweet hope of finding the far distant sea to which they patiently run.

I believe in the whispering winds, for they teach me to listen to the still small voice within my feverish soul.

I believe in the vagrant clouds, as they remind me that life, like a summer day, must have some darkness to reveal its hidden meaning.

I believe in the soft speaking rains, accented with warm tears, telling me that nothing will grow save it be fertilized with tears.

I believe in the golden hush of the sunsets, reflecting a momentary glory of that great world beyond my little horizon.

I believe in the soft-falling dew, revealing the infinite spring of living waters for everything parched and withered.

I believe in the holiness of twilight, as it gives me sense of the presence of God, and I know I am not alone. And whatever else I believe is enshrined in those abiding feelings that lie too deep for words.

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