Update Out In The Fields With God

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Out In The Fields With God

The little cares that fretted me,
I lost them yesterday
Among the fields above the sea,
Among the winds that play,
Among the lowing of the herd,
The rustling of the trees,
Among the singing of the birds,
The humming of the bees.

Poppies at Duchy of Cornwall's Home Farm

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The foolish fears of what might pass
I cast them all away
Among the clover-scented grass,
Among the new-mown hay,
Among the hushing of the corn,
Where drowsy poppies nod,
Where ill thoughts die and good are born-
Out in the fields of God.

by Elizabeth Barrett Browning 1806 – 1861.

We Only Need 

We need not count
every seed atop
the swaying grasses

or number the waves
rolling onto the rocky shore

or measure how far we can see
before the ocean vast
meets the sky immense.

We need not imagine
how many fishes
wander the depths

or where the stars reside
in the blue sky of day.

Nor must we be aware
of our hearts
pumping in our chests

or the movement of tiny sparks
in the neurons of our brains.

We only need sense
the One who creates
and sustains all things

and breathes when we breathe,
cries when we cry. 

Patrick Flanigan