surprised by joy a tree and a swan respectively

Wandering through the underbrush.
I find the stump of a tall tree which I cut down last year.
It had grown to over thirty feet tall.
I cut it to let the sky back into the garden.
I thought I'd killed it but I left the stump as a kind of monumental statue.
Now the stump is bursting with new growth.
Green shoots everywhere.
It's like a living sermon from the creation.
I think of my wearied soul, broken mind, lost innocence, and dead heart.
Like this tree.
A moment of joy can illumine a universe.
Everything is coming to life again in the light of the Lord.
Later at the lake I see the cadet swans performing their ablutions.
It's all very cute.
They are dunking themselves, splashing with their wings, immersing their heads, waving their bums in the air like they don't care, ruffling their feathers, and preening.
Some of them roll on their sides like foundering ships and then right themselves.
One gets out of the water and comes to dry herself beside me.
A creature merely,
But what magnificence crafted into form.
The achieve of, the mastery of the thing, as Gerard Manley Hopkins might put it.
I look at the swans.
How well made they are.
Could it be.
Could it be that the atheism which threatens me so much is not rational at all but actually ridiculous.
How could anyone seriously believe the notion that swans could be an accident, that their beauty could be random, that my rejoicing in the sight of their beauty, my very capacity to perceive it, could itself be meaingless.
The creation shines with beauty.
Beauty speaks of God.
As does truth.
As does goodness.
As do people.
Yes people.
They seem to cause all our suffering but yet in the mystical sense people are the best thing the most beautiful thing, God made.
Ah beauty.
Beauty. Beauty. Beauty.
Joy. Joy. Joy.
God. God. God.
And more miraculous more beautiful than beauty is our beholding of it.
Every living thing every created thing beauteously and bounteously proclaims joy.
Doubt no more oh my soul but believe.