Tales of the pinkness are finally beginning to flutter in with the robins and finches. Magnolias lost no time taking a few days of warm sunshine and turning it into transplendence. (I nounified that word myself, you’re welcome.) The glory of these early trees hit my friend Liz right in her soul-ar plexus, forming beautiful poetry in her heart. She agreed to share it with you as a guest post. It’s our privilege, Lizzie! P.S. The photo is mine…
God is a magnolia tree
In the Arboretum
I have never stepped inside
A more holy church
I found a grove of Divine Mothers
Standing tall in their white velvet petal dresses
Breathless, I snap photos of God.