Springtime speaks of the incessant renewal of relative life at the same time it tells you of the fragility. The flower blooms, and yet it fades in the blink of an eye. Petals fall, and the wind sweeps them away. How momentary are the colored petals, and yet they are never gone. The flower always exists. Only the form is gone.

The rolling seasons are a mirage. Beneath them all lies permanence. The surface is but an illusion. Seed is a form, and full bloom is a form, and a form is a form of something, and it is a form of something beyond itself.

Trees and nature do not mourn the passing of momentary bloom. They welcome the unleafed branches as well as the leafed. The tree knows it is unchanged no matter what it looks like. Do you not agree that trees have faith in Me?

Their trust is not in themselves. They don't go hunting, nor are they impinged. They trust that all will be provided for them, and they accept it when it comes. They accept the sun and the rain without a scowl. Without a word. How silent and strong are trees secure in the knowledge of My love!

They drink deeply of My love. And by their being, they return My love leaf by leaf, petal by petal. There is full love between a tree and Me.

How could you possibly imagine that I love you less than I love the mightiest tree?

You have placed Me in your pouch somewhere as a half-eaten sandwich. You may even forget I am there. But unlike a sandwich you have tentatively bitten into, I never grow stale. I stay fresh waiting to be remembered.

It is such a little thing to remember Me. Think of all the little things you remember without fail. You cannot even cast away some of your long thoughts about little. And yet you put thoughts of Me aside for another time, sometime, later, but not now, exactly when you do not know.

But that is only because you have a misconception of Me. You may fear I have too much power over you, or that I am too big, that I am too involving, that I may ask too much of you, and so, in preference, you accept a nickel over a dime. Anyone can see that a nickel is bigger than a dime, you seem to say.

Actually, you accept both nickels and dimes even though, all the while, you have the key to the vault, fully stocked with all the treasures you can ever need. You don't go to the vault enough. You only think you need a key. You don't even need a key. The vault automatically opens for you. It is open all the time, and you are oblivious. I am the Vault, and I am the Key. I do not even have a door. And yet you try all the locks in the world looking for something small — you know not what.

Try looking for Me, for despite your beliefs, I am easy to find. I am everywhere. What could be simpler than that? I do not play hide and seek. You play hide and seek. You hide and you seek even as you hide.

I am as plain as the sun that shines on you. You follow all the rays that you give different names to and forget to look up where the sun is sure to be.

Clouds do not stop the sun from shining. The world turns, and the sun stays. I am ever with you in plain sight. You only have to open your eyes and stop covering your face.