My desire to capture this moment was so strong that I had no choice but to write a poem about it. I remember my exuberant reaction when this incredible idea entered my brain. Like the BFG, my legs moved gracefully in long, swift strides, almost as if I was flying; flying free to the land of His creations.
One Magical, Misty, Morning
Little red robins chirp away,
Forsythias bloom, the wind makes them sway.
As God's greenery glimmered through the morning dew drops,
A spider created its silky, shiny, shimmering, prop.
While morning beauties bloomed,
To their mothers ducklings crooned;
And as the morning grew to sunset,
I wished for it to rise again, not set.
If Nature can respect everyone, why can't we?