When do we loose our sense of wonder? Are we so old, at these young ages, that we just walk by magic? Does He dip His fingers in the colors of Genesis still, and we miss the majesty?
It's OK to be a toddler at heart. Wonder, marvel, see.
After the storm it's here that I see it.
"Come look at these clouds."
He doesn't have to do this for us.
With unskilled hands I try to preserve the memory.
My heart is awed, and this is love.
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