Mar 15, 2012
I saw God wash the world last night With His sweet showers on high; And then when morning came I saw him hang it out to dry. He washed each slender blade of grass And every trembling tree; He flung his showers against the hills And swept the rolling sea. The white rose is a deeper white; The red, a richer red Since God washed every fragrant face And put them all to bed. There's not a bird, there's not a bee That wings along the way, But is a cleaner bird and bee Than it was yesterday. I saw God wash the world last night; Ah, would He had washed me As clean of all my dust and dirt As that old white birch tree!
A little poem by William Stidger that reminds me of Aloha Camp and the lovely Nancy Pennell who would read it.