At the meadow’s edge the river speaks in syllables of glass and song; Paula listens, offering thanks— the current carries it along.
A deer pauses, temple-still, its velvet antlers haloed bright; a breeze rehearses ancient psalms, and leaves applaud with filtered light. Holy Nature Paula Birthday
The oak leans close and tells its ledger: rings of years, of storms endured; she lays a hand upon its heart— the world receives what she’s secured. At the meadow’s edge the river speaks in
Night lays down its velvet veil, stars like votives, steady, far; Paula breathes the sacred hush— the world a liturgy of star. Night lays down its velvet veil, stars like
In a hush of dawn the forest wakes, light braided through cathedral leaves; soft hymns of robins stitch the air, and every blade of grass believes.
Friends arrive—fox, and crow, and child— their laughter peals like chapel bells; they stitch a garland for her hair, and stories bloom in joyous swells.
At the meadow’s edge the river speaks in syllables of glass and song; Paula listens, offering thanks— the current carries it along.
A deer pauses, temple-still, its velvet antlers haloed bright; a breeze rehearses ancient psalms, and leaves applaud with filtered light.
The oak leans close and tells its ledger: rings of years, of storms endured; she lays a hand upon its heart— the world receives what she’s secured.
Night lays down its velvet veil, stars like votives, steady, far; Paula breathes the sacred hush— the world a liturgy of star.
In a hush of dawn the forest wakes, light braided through cathedral leaves; soft hymns of robins stitch the air, and every blade of grass believes.
Friends arrive—fox, and crow, and child— their laughter peals like chapel bells; they stitch a garland for her hair, and stories bloom in joyous swells.