[The Mayfly in the Vineyard]

Under the final flicker of the setting sun, I, the mayfly, draw my breath. In this fleeting existence, even death holds no terror—only gratitude remains. As the Master tends to my fragile frame, neither wind, rain, frost, nor tempest can do me harm. Drinking in the warm light and the clear water, I grow, learning the meaning of life within this crystalline air. In this gracious sanctuary, all my needs are met; my only fear is that my own greed might cast a shadow upon my neighbor’s face. The countless friends who dwelled here before me have now faded into whispering, indistinct shadows. Yet, I shall mount the sun of tomorrow, taking flight as a giant bird, for time here belongs as much to me as it does to you, dwelling ever within the Master’s own time. As the ripe grapes swell in abundance, time casts a glow of glory, and the Master fills our lives with an endless dream. Though storms, frosts, and blizzards may rage, this living earth remains an unchanging paradise, whatever may come. While the world wanders in search of treasure, the Master’s eyes remember—remembering the moments of truth and beauty, the treasures far deeper and richer. I dream, I toil, I map out my path, yet I never doubt. I trust the grace and blessings bestowed upon me, and the way He has prepared. With gratitude, again and yet again, I surrender my time and my all, awaiting the coming tomorrow before the darkness falls. Within this brief, ephemeral moment, I etch upon my soul the sun that rises forever—the light that makes me whole.