As Part Of Creation

My relative is a blossom whom
I observe upon an nearby tree
As are those lovely mallards that
Daily swim and fish the sea.

As I daily stroll many of my relatives
I have met such as the singing
Blackbird or those twisting
In a fishing net.

Of course, the gentle snowdrop
Plus the silence of falling snow,
The call of the migrant cuckoo or
A skylark above a river’s flow…

Oh, yes, we are all relatives
Strolling the valley of creation in
The aftermath of our conception
Within God’s loving womb of fruition.

For the presence of our source is
Not confined to our kind alone
Our Eucharist dwells within all
Even what appears to be the
Most insignificant stone.

So let our kind be observant
For the source of life nourishes
And although we are eternally
Important there is no place
Unless otherwise ordained
For the concept of disunity.