Holy 

I’ve been quiet for the past month, scribbling lines of ink as I chase wilderness and water. Over the next week, I’ll be sharing thoughts and poems inspired by the rocky rivers of Idaho. 

If God is a God of truth,
she is a mountain.

And if God is a God of peace,
she is a meadow.

But if God is encapsulated
in humility and grace
she is a river.

Perfect loves drives out all fear,
excluding God from being just water

but she could be fullness of
splashing
swirling
learning
laughing
turning
twisting
asking
answering: glassy foam and muddy splish.

What of the
curving
disparate landscape?

If movement is purely
north to south,
the only goal
downward motion

why bother
with
the beauty
of
meander?

Of east to west
up
down
zigzag back

water veins
pulsing to meet

flits of
gold and copper

crunches of
sand and bark

and we meet
Her holiness
the river.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s