Strange and wondrous, how Mother Nature
runs riot on our end of Prairie Creek.

A channel cut through gumbo clay
That crumbles and tumbles day by day
Making crevice deep and wide
For meager muddy stream.
Yet still a sluice of moisture nurtures
Nature in her springtime glory.

Cottonwoods and milkweeds
And butter-yellow dandelions
Explode fluff, a bacchanal of bursting,
Gossamer upon gusts.
Red robins and blue jays
And wild green parakeets
Chatter in aspens and pines with roots
Clinging for dear life – dear life! – to eroding slopes.
Rabbits and squirrels, and urban coyotes
Scrape breakfast in dewy underbrush.

Once, when dog and I were late about,
We spied a cottontail motionless on weedy lawn,
Basking in the blessed warming sun,
Sitting in the sunshine, little bunny face
Uplifted in the light, the glorious light,
A creature caught in praise and prayer.
Light, warmth, trickle, black prairie earth,
How astounding that simple things
Mix and meld and bring forth life,
Wild and free, amid exurban scape.

Strange and wondrous,
How Mother Nature, Creator God,
Runs riot on our end of Prairie Creek.

Cynthia B. Astle of Dallas, TX, is a certified spiritual director and veteran religion journalist who blogs at


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