Red

I dream of red apples
crisp in the fall, sun
hanging high in the afternoon sky
like a rosy tomato
succulent, bursting with life, blood
coursing through well-worn channels,
never to stop
signs of life, dazzling and sparkling wine
tasting Merlot with hints of cherry
jam, laden with sweetness upon my lips.

*This poem came about from an exercise in The Roar on the Other Side by Suzanne Rhodes. 

Creation is complex, so intricate, so profuse with life and form and color and scent! And I walk through it deaf and dumb and blind, groping my way, stupidly absorbed in putting one foot in front of the other, seeing a mere fraction of what is there.-Eugene Peterson

God, grant me clear eyes, to see the beauty in every person.

Grant me open ears, that I may listen with compassion rather than judgment.

Grant me a gentle tongue, that I may speak with grace and kindness.

Grant me strong hands, that I may serve those in need.