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THOUGHTS
SPRINGS OF JOY
The clicking sound of irrigation
Awakens my imagination;
The noise passersby alerting
To be aware that water’s squirting.
The trunks of trees are getting cleaner,
While on the ground the grass gets greener.
The grownups give each hose wide berth
So all that fluid will hit the earth
And not their hair and clothes and shoes.
Getting wet gives adults blues.
But children run into the spray;
They see it as a place to play.
They don’t object to getting drenched;
Dignity’s not in them entrenched.
How I love their squeals of laughter!
The joy of watching them stays after
They’ve all gone inside to dry.
And then I start to wonder why
I so resist the Spirit’s rain
That seeks to freshen me again.
My soul spends time just gathering dust
Because I lack in child-like trust.
“The thing that’s proper” blinds my eyes
And can my “God thirst” paralyze.
Lord, let my dignity go crashing
And in Your springs of joy go splashing!
With abandon, into Your river
I throw myself, Great Blessing Giver.
Wayne West
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