The Song of Florence

This was the first patch of countryside I laid my eyes on as soon as I touched down in Italy.  It was early in the morning and the sun rises late in Europe.  I was immediately taken by its glow and the lush green fields with trees in changing color were God's fingerprints right there.

And I'm just one of the sheep in His pasture.  

In grassy meadows He lets me lie. - Psalm 23:2

The pilgrimage began in Florence and more of God's fingerprints adorned the walls of the Baptistry, the Tower and the villages that surrounded the remnants of ancient faith.

I walked the cobblestoned streets to breathe everything in.

My eyes began to see beauty again in the little corners filled with secret stories I hoped to hear with each photograph I took.

Everything was full of life.  

And it was such a change from the normal routine I have had before the vacation began.  I was instantly awakened and eager to experience life as it unfolded in this pilgrim's journey again and again.

Faith was alive everywhere I walked and every corner I turned into.  The walls of buildings even in their current modernised life held on to these artefacts of faith that remained for them memoirs of their own personal histories.

And even when the day came to an end,

The Created world never failed to remind me that the Creator's hand was upon us all.

In every shadow and ray of light.  He brings us all to still waters.  Where there is peace.


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