Such fragile things,
of little strings
our human hearts are made.
But little strings don’t bind
our hearts and minds,
and from the path we’ve strayed.
As we trip and fall,
and rage against it all,
those little strings seem frayed.
The way is surrender,
trusting fingers tender,
wove little strings into a braid.
I was running along the road, feeling like giving up,
when I heard the dry leaves rustling behind me.
Of all the thousands of leaves on my run,
these few caught my attention as they blew quickly past me,
and down the road.
I was concious that they were there just for me.
“Follow Us! Follow Us! We know The Way!!“,
they rustled with the spirit of the wind that carried them.
I tried to keep up, but they were gone.
What a beautiful moment of Grace.