the face of my god
I do not stand before you a poor man,
for I have touched the face of my god,
his skin is of tree bark, rock,
and rich loam,
his eyes the sun and moon
his breath the cool air of home.
I stand before you tall and proud,
for I have heard my god’s voice,
his tone is of river, field, wood
and crashing sea.
His verse from all that exists
with their sound tumbling free.
I am here and that is all I need
and I know my god’s thoughts,
they are mine and of kindness,
and brotherly love.
And I know that my god is you and I
and all that is, below and above.