It’s hard to put into words.
At least for me anyways.
Because for me it’s not the words that bring about my understanding of it.
For me it’s in the nature, images and metaphors.
It’s in the subtle, simple and symbolic scenarios that take place moment by moment.
It’s seen understood and observed differently by each individual in a completely unique perspective.
It’s the brushstroke placed perfectly on a grand canvas.
It’s in the way words tend to fail a man in the presence of beauty.
It’s the sunrise coming over the spruce laden hills, reflecting its light like a mirror on the still glassy water of the morning bay.
It’s the gentle salty breeze climbing its way over the boats edge and up ones nostrils to seek shelter in the brain.
It’s the cool fresh air that breaths life into ones soul, body and mind.
It’s relaxed and care free like the sea otters floating comfortably on the water, feet up and feasting on clams.
It’s the mother whale feasting on feeder fish with her giant baby by her side learning the tricks of the trade.
It’s in the waves crest crashing down upon the bare back of a boy gliding on glory.
It’s in the satisfied, slippery, sliding sweat pillaging across ones face on a hot desert day.
It’s in the balance of eating right, exercise and escaping from the expectations of a “so called social norm.”
It’s in the decorating designs of dirt on display of those who live outdoors and play.
It’s in the flaunting of freedom at the feelings of fear and failure.
It’s in the variations of vast, voluptuous life that continues unseen with valor and virtue despite victories seen.
It’s in the way no camera can capture what is seen and experienced by the eyes.
It’s in the windy waters of weather beaten rivers raping their way through canyons of colorful life.
It’s in the way a trout is tricked by a floating fly passing bye.
It’s in a crafty game of cribbage played with people you love.
It’s in the creative cracks that split their way up and down a colorful canvas of rock.
It’s in the awe inspiring autumn leaves, awakening the spirit of change.
It’s the smile on a child’s face as he sprints along side of his joyous mother.
It’s the peace of mind in a patient man that knows no need as he waters the seed.
It’s in the clarity that comes only from the creator of what is.
It’s simplicity found in silence by those who surrender to a savior beyond them self.
It’s carved into a kingdom that is coming.
It’s in the cross that carries our crimes.
It’s viewed and shared with all things big and small.
It’s understood by each only in part no matter how simple or how smart.
It’s fully known only by the one who created and craft it.
It’s intimate nature and implicit design is comprehended completely only by the divine.
It’s far more than what’s been said.
It’s hope that’s risen from the dead.
It’s polished, perfect and pure.
It’s absolutely astounding atonement.
It. Is. ART.
eyesopen 