Grey morning, rain held
in blankets, the cliff
I stand on, above the ocean,
wounded as a raging beast.
So here is where my God is hiding;
steel blue-eyed, teeth, jagged rock,
breathing in and out the clouds,
His body silver, gorgeous, large.
Does He see me small and random
some wild blossom clinging to
the ribs of mountain? Or does my spirit
lit and glowing remind Him of
His favorite star? The rains break
loose from heaven's pores, the sound
a million liquid singing voices.
A red-backed hawk plummets through
crackling skies, searches for a place
to light. Lands beside me fastens to
a boulder shrub, majestic as a king,
more in fear of God than me.
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