The sunlight shines upon the forest floor.
It greens the grass over there,
it lights up a flower over here,
it energizes the sapling and the bush.
Life, warm bright life,
floods the forest
giving it light.
Now a breeze swirls the campfire.
Smoke rises into the air
filtering the sunbeams
making them like lasers
pointing down through the canopy.
I did not see the sunlight before.
I saw it lighting up the plants
I saw its life springing up.
Now I think I see sunlight,
but really I see smoke.
I see the haze intercepting
the connection between sun and flower,
sun and tree,
sun and grass.
That connection was bright,
The smoke wants credit.
The smoke wants attention.
It thinks it has revealed the light,
but really, it has blocked it.
The helpful Christian
will not be smoke in the light,
but gardeners of Light.