The cardinal sits in the highest branch of the tree and calls out his song for all the world to hear. It is a clear, delightful, and yet plaintiff cry; probably calling for his mate to come and join him in the top of the tree. His coat is as beautiful as his song, and the panorama he sees from his vantage point must be magnificent. I wonder sometimes if he is saying, “Come, come, come, see, see, see!” And we, earthbound creatures below, look up to see if we can find that lovely little red bird. When we find him, we see the bird, we hear his song, and we may comment that both are beautiful. We may even find both sight and song thrilling, but we somehow never catch a glimpse of what he sees.
Ironic, isn’t it that we see the visionary, but not the vision. We see the prophet and hear his call, but fail to see the possibilities of which he sings.
Still, the prophet keeps calling, “COME, SEE, COME, SEE COME, SEE.”
Who knows, maybe one day we will.
Wicked Sale
4 months ago
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