The Aspen Choir

When Isaiah said

that all of the trees of the field will clap their hands

I'm sure he couldn't possibly have meant the aspen

And yet,

that must have been exactly what he meant,

because here, on this porch,

in Ashton, Idaho,

as the breeze whispers through the aspen trees...

the leaves flicker, as if they were a swarm of green butterflies taking flight

the branches sway, as if they were waving a gentle "hello"

and the trunks even occasionally bow, as if to acknowledge my place in the way of all things

All as if to say -

Praise.

Praise for you.

Praise for the bird's song.

Praise for the beautiful blue sky.

Praise for the insect's constant buzz.

Praise for the colors,

the green things and the wildflowers - purple and yellow.

Yes, and all this, the aspen choir applauds,

is for the Lord's renown.

This. Here.

Even this page, too.

And this paltry writing.

is an everlasting sign

that will endure forever.

Do you want to know the best part of it all?

I will tell you this secret for it to sink in your heart, too.

Best of all, I did nothing for this praise -

except be.

and be here now.

just as it ought to be.

as is.

All is good.

So honey child - drink in the applause,

this aspen choir of approval,

this unending divine yes,

for you and all who pay attention,

and take your bow.

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