By reading the scriptures I am so renewed that all nature seems

The words of Thomas Merton—“By reading the scriptures I am so renewed that all nature seems renewed around me and with me. The sky seems to be a purer, a cooler blue, the trees a deeper green. The whole world is charged with the glory of God and I feel fire and music under my feet.”—speak like the voice of a prophet rejoicing in the union of heaven and earth. They remind us that when the spirit is awakened, even the smallest details of the world shine with holy light. The change is not in the sky, nor in the trees, but in the eyes of the one who beholds them, cleansed and clarified by truth divine.

Merton, a monk and mystic of the twentieth century, devoted his life to silence, prayer, and the pursuit of God. In his solitude he discovered a secret: that immersion in sacred words does not merely inform the mind, it transforms the heart. In his description, we hear the ancient truth that to encounter the holy is to see with new vision. The world remains the same, but it appears transfigured, radiant, suffused with meaning, because the inner eye has been washed clean.

This insight is not Merton’s alone. Augustine, after his conversion, confessed that the Scriptures caused him to look at creation with new wonder, declaring, “Late have I loved Thee, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new.” For him, as for Merton, the trees, the sky, and all things were no longer ordinary. They had become windows to eternity, sacraments of the divine presence. It is as though the very soil and stones began to hum with music, carrying whispers of the Creator.

History gives us further witness in the life of St. Francis of Assisi. He walked among the hills of Italy and sang to the sun, the moon, the birds, and the beasts, calling them brothers and sisters. For Francis, every leaf was a hymn, every breeze a psalm. The Scriptures he held in his heart spilled outward into a vision of the world as one great choir, each creature a note in the symphony of God. Like Merton, he felt fire and joy under his feet, because his soul was set ablaze by the love of heaven.

The meaning of Merton’s words is thus clear: when the spirit is touched by the glory of God, life is no longer dull. The weary heart is lifted, and the common becomes holy. To walk after such renewal is to live in perpetual astonishment. The colors grow deeper, the air becomes sweeter, and the burdens of life are lightened, for the soul walks not alone but with the presence of the Eternal. This is not escape from the world, but rediscovery of it, renewed and alive with wonder.

The lesson for us, seekers of wisdom, is this: we must nourish the inner vision if we wish to see the world rightly. Without renewal, the eye grows dim and all things appear gray. But when we feed upon truth, prayer, and the sacred, our eyes are opened again, and the trees stand tall with meaning, the sky arches vast with promise, and the smallest stone reflects infinite mystery. Thus, the work begins not outside, but within.

Practically, this means setting aside time to read, reflect, and breathe in what is holy. Whether in the scriptures, in poetry, or in the quiet of contemplation, we must allow the heart to be renewed. Walk in nature with gratitude. Read words that lift the spirit. Pray or meditate until the eyes of the soul are opened. In this way, like Merton, you will find fire beneath your feet and music in your steps, for the whole world will be charged again with divine glory.

So let this teaching endure: renewal is not only for monks, nor for saints of the past. It is for all who are willing to pause, to open the heart, and to see the world afresh. For when the soul is renewed, all creation becomes radiant, and every breath, every tree, every ray of the sky proclaims the glory of God. And those who walk with such vision shall never walk in darkness, but in the light of eternal joy.