A tired, faded little flower looked up at the Sun one day. She winced at it's mighty brilliance and power. The forlorn little flower felt weak and helpless while gazing at this shining Thing. This Thing that was harsh and loving at the same time. This Thing that would strike and caress with the same ray. She was awed and comforted as she grew warm in Its light. She was frightened with the thought of Its wrath. She bowed lower and lower, cowering and worshiping with one movement.
As faded plants bow to the Sun, so shall I, a faded being myself, bow to you, O Lord.
Mary Em
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