God in the tangible


I read the assignment: share a moment you've felt close to God lately.
The cool breeze of a fan in the claustrophobic Southern sun.


The turquoise of hurricane shutters down by the beach.


The criss-cross of the palmetto shrub,
so familiar, the raspy rub of it against palm.
4 years now I've been traveling here to feel this.


Grassy palmetto tops seclude the beach access 
brush hair back with their rough edges
and sing a rustling song in the ocean breeze.

In nature I feel him.
But He is so silent.
He is so still.
He is so far away, other times.

Where are you, oh God, that I cannot touch or feel you?
Where is your whisper?
Where is your windsong?
When is my escape?




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