The Reminder

The Reminder
by Rich Reith

Another day
Another dollar.
Another reminder.
God, how he loves the renewal of spring!

Morning.
Another trip to work.
Blue pinstripes,
Fancy tie,
Florsheims, about to hang off the edge of the blanket,
he spreads out in this quiet clearing ,
damp from the dew.

No one notices
how early he leaves for work now,
or would guess his secret.

His beloved,
his soulmate,
at home deep in sweet reverie
oblivious to his dalliance here.
She stands in awe of the strength of his love -
Never knowing how much this secret,
this reminder,
this gift from God,
has kept his love so fresh,
so vibrant,
for so long..

A subtle hint of pink tinges the sky over the mountains.
A signal of the coming of dawn.
From his place in the clearing,
his pew in God's majestic cathedral,
he beholds nothing but the miracle of creation.
And he waits for His reminder.

The varied greens of the trees,
the mountains,
and the magnificent valley
in splendor before him.
No houses or cars
no poles and wires -
nothing but the handiwork of his Creator.

He remembers the valley,
once wild with the color of lilies,
but now seemingly dead.
He waits for gift, and his guidance.

Every day of spring
this morning dalliance has been his rite,
his ritual,
his connection to God
accepted with eternal gratefulness.

He feels the cool breeze,
hears the music of birds awakening to the dawn.
The scent of fresh earth
dampened with the morning dew,
heightens his anticipation.
The sound of his breathing
the rhythmic pulse of his heart
echo in his mind,
as the sun readies to climb over the mountains.

Life returns to the valley
spectacularly
under the loving touch of the morning sun.

Like stars appearing
through thinning clouds on a moonless night,
the lilies unfold and come to life,
one here, one there, then tens,
then hundreds,
then thousands..

They proclaim Gods wonder
in hues of yellow, orange, purple.
Colors of life repainted
on a canvas of green..

A tapestry of life and beauty,
created before his eyes.
His reminder from God.

He no longer hears
or sees,
he simply experiences
the sights and sounds,
the wonder all around.

Eventually he wakens to face the reality of the day ahead.
He always does.
His mind knows it is the sounds that rouse him.
His heart says that an angel touches him on the shoulder.

As he returns to his car
to the world
he thinks of his beloved
and says a hushed prayer of thankfulness.
Once more, God reminds him,
admonishes him:
no matter how much money and power he has
no matter how much praise and recognition,
in the eyes of God he is just a lily.
And she,
is his dawn.