ice sculpture behind our house
The only solace is the sound of the river
A quarter mile away in the black of the frozen night air
Or the sun on my closed eye lids as I rest against the hillside to catch my breath.
This is my God.
Blind faith carries a strong need
To share what one cannot see.
This is what I see.
This is my church, my temple, my mosque.
Listen and hear these sermons and chanting in the winter storm and spring river.
I cannot be converted but am filled with trust.
I find my answers in the wind.