The Most Obliging Butterflies

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Flying excited loops, distracted landings, erratic circles, 

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they say, “The flowers

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drenched in sun

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are the sweetest.”

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They tell us, 

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“Follow me!”

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“Come, scruffy robin, from the shadows!”

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“The earth is gold and though we are here but for a moment, we know it is worth savoring.”

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“Look and see! Do you know the freedom in the Gift? How wide, how deep, how far?”

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“The breeze knows it, the grasses know it.”

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“We know it. Our wings flirt with the sun, sipping earth’s dew.

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We land as jewels bestowed, undeserved. Do not refuse what you could never earn.”

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“Let us teach you

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how to say goodbye

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to this golden summer light

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and summer creations so frail.”

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“Caught, visible, for a season,

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time for rest is coming now.”

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“There is no need to hoard! You may gather all you can, yet there will always be more.”

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“We, the secrets in the light, 

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want you to know: it’s all for you.”

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“Our colors, which we are glad to give, will become your memories.”

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“Receive freely in surrender for the next season will bring more of the Gift,

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even if all the summers of time were fit into this day.” 

 These photos were taken with an experimental Lensbaby lens and its movable optic attachment. All the blur / tilt-shift-y-ness you see on my blog is from this lens!

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Cathedral’s Heart

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soundless, light descends to declare

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otherworldly love of detail

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the northern pine woods frame and breathe the heart of a cathedral

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manifold vertical lines

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seek to bind

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earth and heaven, man and God

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tall airy weightless pines

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remind me

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who calls you toward heaven

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and created this space

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wide enough to fit our chaos

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offering us to the Father of lights

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we dwell here afflicted by shadows

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sharp fear, dimming confusion, the waiting of change

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yet there is a stillness

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older than the trees

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who endures

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and whose seeing Heart casts no shadow.

The Vibrant Hum of Light and Design-Made-Pattern

A Language spoken-sung, breathed; inhaled and exhaled from the undistractedly patterned lives of tiny creatures ◆ A Song I could not quite hear, though with it the path was soaked through as the generous July sun ◆ A minute, teeming drop of nature clinging to its original purpose, glowing with Life; a remnant ◆ A wanderer trying to understand and being swept into its current, having forgotten something the flowers and bees still remember…

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Templates borne and realized in living, nobly and without shame.

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Work and purpose lived, beauty and design’s intent: intertwined.

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The hum of light and nature’s feasting unseen.

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The dignity in a hummingbird-being’s secret rest.

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The uncanny and safe-making unity of flying birds. || Away. The dual flock, I.

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|| Gather. The dual flock, II.

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|| Still. The dual flock, III.

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Setting and pattern echo the Garden. The communion of nature and light, and we its fallen royals…

Creator King, reteach us the Song, sow still its seed. Speak to us the language of Your Kingdom, that we may hesitantly pronounce words and phrases now… And sing freely and fluently in Fullness. Restore all with Your Breath of Life. Overlook not Your lost and ruined Image-bearers, who have forgotten and ignored much Good. We root ourselves in Your faithfulness. AMEN.

Captured 7.24.15.

All photographs and words by Kelly Grace Collins, all rights reserved.

the Healer and the camera

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A miracle photo, truly. I had less than a second to shoot this buck when I spotted him running off the field… A prayer shot up and somehow my super-manual lens was in focus. My first time outside after being quite sick for a few days. Such a gift. D7000 + Lensbaby Composer + Edge 80 Optic. All rights reserved.

 

The Artist sees Himself reflected

◆ Light falls and traces the edges… ◆ The Artist sees Himself reflected in all He has made ◆ The wind, the waters, the notes of harmonies cast back the image of His Spirit to His eyes, their movements like His own ◆ See Yourself most in us, Creator Jesus ◆ let the rays of Your Goodness strengthen in golden beams what is You, and harden, bleach as bone, what is not ◆ Promise to dwell, speak, and breathe inside; lift, pull, daily carry us into You–{rest} ◆ just the faintest watercolor touch, sudden release of color, is like You… Come ◆ pine is of Your encompassing Strength, mint is of Your ever-flowing Life, cinnamon is of Your welcoming Warmth ◆ a small presence before Yours, but never ignored–to offer a soul to Your Light Heart ◆ to need; to wake; is the beginning of Life in You… then, ever caught in the Unseen ◆ scintillate through all Your people, glinting from chosen faces and voices as time moves ◆ oh return with resounding clouds and un-deaf-ening thunder, swallow up Yours with dense and dancing Glory ◆ Amen

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tree approaching

 

soaring sky

 

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scene of fallen log

the itch of the earth

~

 

 

can

you feel it

 

the itch of the earth

stillness through layers

aching for her Creator to come and rake through her sediments with strength

and sift her depths anew

 

can

you feel it

somewhere a stony vein through the center trembles

she felt His breath

an exhale slow with dew and weight

rocks lie in piles, trees drive roots deep

waters seep

all move with her movements in tides

it is not enough

 

listen to her restlessness

ever spinning ever still

 

waiting since–

the entry of white teeth

into the forbidden flesh

of a mysterious fruit,

grown of her virgin soils

 

creatures burrow…

can you feel it?

 

the itch of the earth

 

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