As I’m returning from a trip this week, I’m reminded of the first year I wrote Lent poetry—2014, when my high school choir toured Ireland, England, and Wales. As I shared in the first week, that year holds a special place in my memory because I see the misty Irish hills and moss covered giants of the Welsh forests in my mind’s eye.

Seattle is a new city for me, but one I hope to return to. That the first settlers of the area decided to build their town into the face of the seaside hills is a wonder. Streets that meander and roll like ocean waves form the pathways by which people live their lives. I find the combination of old and new within the city’s boundaries to be charming. Yet somehow, amid all the hustle and bustle of metropolitan life, there remains a quiet unhurriedness to the lives of the ones who call this place their home.

This is the fourth in a series of posts. Read the previous weeks here.

Vanity | Day 17
A child’s plaything,
It entertains for hours
A herald of imagination
My daughter, lost in her own world,
Pretends she’s a movie star
Or going out shopping
And other such mundane things
As adults, we go about our days
No longer in play
And some of the fun is lost
Perhaps because we feel
The weight of responsibility
Or because we understand
King Solomon’s words—
That all of life
Is vanity
And a striving after wind
Even so
We find moments of joy
Before our return to dust

Wildflowers | Day 18
Oh, that I was like the wildflowers
Growing free upon the desert roadside
No care for the rush around me
Or the placement of my blooms
But unfolding in beauty for all to see
Whether traveler or passing wildlife
They blanket the untamed fields
Stretched out in my rearview
Content with their lot in life
Unconcerned if any eyes
Ever behold their wonder

Grand Canyon at 38,000 Feet | Day 19
A little distance
Helps us gain perspective
Consider the Grand Canyon—
Incomprehensible in scale
On foot, days in breadth
Sheer walls like fortresses
And trails like winding switchbacks
A wonder of creation
Full of mystery and allure
Yet looking down from bird’s eye view
A thin line like a jagged scar
Cuts the landscape
And I can’t help but feel
Relief
That even the largest monuments
Appear as nothing
With the right vantage point

Moss | Day 20
We move so quickly through life
That we often forget
What it’s like to stand still
Like rocks in the forest
Unmoving
In the place they first fell
Unless acted upon by an outside force
Their stony hides covered
With moss
A sign of their stillness
And their silence
Before the God who created them

Ferris Wheel | Day 21
The cars move round
Silently
A triumph of engineering
Combining
The old and the new
Sleek design
And timeless delight
Going nowhere
Stuck in an endless cycle
Of directional monotony
Just as we often find ourselves
Spinning
With no end in sight

Seattle Skyline | Day 22
We wander through streets
Built into hills
As if mocking gravity itself
Stepping into shops and markets
Where the bright blooms of flowers
Pop against the sky’s dreary gray
And fish hurtle from one hand
To another in reckless trajectory
The smell of spices and coffee
Wafting from nearby open doors
As the vendors prepare
For closing time
The sky barely darkens
But the feeling of evening
Settles on the city
The air is crisp
Seasoned with the ocean’s salty hue
As we walk side streets and alleys
Passing people who also journey
Some in family units
Some in solitary flight
All of them, going on
Never stopping to acknowledge
Any deeper need
Than getting to their destination

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