I looked at a flower and prayed: suddenly, O Father, I beheld Thee hiding there. It exuded to me the perfume of Thy presence. I saw the blush of Thy purity coloring its petals. It was the gold of Thy wisdom that shone in its heart. Thine all‐embracing, upholding power filled its delicate calyx. The mystery of life and immortality lay in the pollen—lifted by the bee when it tasted Thy sweetness. Oh teach me Thy wonders of Creation, which is hinted at in even the tiniest roadside weed.


129. Thou Art Slowly Rising On the Horizon of My Mind