Be

Be
Does the flower masquarade and dance in all its glory comparing itself with the blossom of another?

Does the tree waving its branches in rhythm with the breeze wish to be a cloud?

Does the moon cast its light hoping to outshine the sun?

The flowers, the trees, the moon, all of creation rejoicing, dancing, and celebrating in its own truth.

Each contented in its own costume
Each contented with its own gift of beauty
All clothed as they were intricately and lovingly made to be.

Be.