Reflections broken by a soft wind,
as I try and understand.
Mountains and the lake before me,
offered as a gift to Man.
Heather Meadows flecked with color,
ice blue sky and sky blue ice.
Silver water on a boulder,
peaks which mirror the evening light.
No shame I'd feel if I deserved them,
bought them, owned them, paid the price.
But Creation is not mine to purchase,
no more than the grace of Christ.
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