“Glory
be to God” is a phrase I often heard growing up, but this morning I’m thinking
about glory be to bright autumn leaves, and glory be to blue skies, and glory
be to a good cup of coffee. I don’t attend church, but
I do worship the wonders of this world. I praise the power of a few flowers to stay strong on frosty mornings,
and I praise the power of my hands that help me write these words. I give
homage to the holy eggs from Farmer Brown which will soon sizzle on the stove,
and I give kudos to cranberry jam and the juice of green grapes. I say glory be
to the greatness of this moment, and to the majesty of our small house in
Mystic, and to the magnificence of the sparrow on our feeder just now.
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