I believe in the flowers,and their glorious indifference to the changes of the morrow.

I believe in the birds,and their implicit trust in the loving Providence that feeds them.

I believe in prayer-chanting brooks, as they murmur a sweet hope of finding the far distant seas to which they patiently run.

I believe in the whispering winds, for they teach me to listen to the still, small voice within my feverish soul.

I believe in the vagrant clouds, as they remind me that life, like a summer day, must have some darkness to reveal its hidden meaning.

I believe in the soft-speaking rains, accented with warm tears, telling me that nothing will grow save it be fertilized with tears.

I believe in the golden hush of the sunsets, reflecting a momentary glory of that great world beyond my little horizon.

I believe in the holiness of twilight, as it gives me a sense of the presence of God, and I know I am not alone.

And whatever else I believe is enshrined in those abiding feelings that lie too deep for words.

                                  W.W. Agrow