The Blue Cool Of The Evening

In my dreams,
i see through windows with earth eyes,
but sometimes i feel as though i’m seeing thru
the Eyes of God looking out the windows of Heaven.

i see beauty beyond compare.
Seeing as He sees, my heart grows tender.
He knows where visions of the early times are stored
and allows me to look in the window to the room of memory.

Fondly, through His eyes,
He remembers walking with Adam and Eve,
in the blue cool of the evening,
thru the garden always fresh with flowers
after the benediction of the rain.

Out the open windows,
as seen through the Eyes of God,
He inhales the perfume of April and the early discourse of new things,
like the in breaking of spring that is new every morning.

From His windows He sees we are not alone,
for there are other lovers who walk in the cool of the evening.
Stars sit together and sing softly,
the moon casts his light,
and there
casual strollers pass a patch
of subtle turquoise and silver
to step
in step,
languishing in the garden of God.

Upon awakening, i too walk to earthly windows and watch outside with my earth eyes.
i watch first thing in the morning, and last thing in the evening.
Today, out my window at the settling of the day,
children play down by the pond,
the neighbor’s cat sits on the porch waiting
for something else to happen,
a misty haze comes to settle on the mountains
as it always does.
Seeing out my windows,
the days of long ago come to mind.
i ponder about how soon we lose heart in our fascination with shiny things.
Funny how sometimes
around the edges of the memories,
there is a nudge of disappointment over
…things which once were shiny,
but were rarely all we fancied them to be.

When we take it upon ourselves to look in the windows of God’s house,
the Eyes of God,
He invites us to peer into the rooms
where the fruit of righteous judgment is stored,
where the bright imagery of His promises play
in a continuously looping movie,
which extends to us all the invitation
to join Him in the celebration of “more” and rightness of character.
i am convinced darkness is SO wrong, that the mere presence of rightness causes inky darkness literal pain.

i imagine,
what if i looked closely
in the Eyes of God,
what would i see?

In my imagination
i think i would see the occasional lightning flash,
paintings of victory and intricate sculptures of His righteous army,
fearlessly marching,
led by the Famous One on a white horse.

In the mirrors in the hallway
i imagine i could see the reflection of His eyes
overseeing the campfires of the righteous
waiting for their call,
and bands of warriors
praying in the evening,
in the late dim light
of solemn tents of meeting.

At the trumpet call to arms,
not one praying warrior would retreat,
not one foot turned away.

Through the windows of God’s house
i’m certain i would see,
although i personally have not seen it,
a living book on the Fathers writing desk,
about the Lily of the valley,
His beauty born among thorns,
with glory in His heart
the righteousness of the Son,
like the glow of sunrise transfiguring the whole landscape
of eternal possibilities forever. c

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