by Gideon Burton
A God of Miracles both bright and still
and still He waits to weight that cloudburst grace
with haste sufficient for His knowing will:
the rescue speed, that resurrecting pace
in time with timelessness, in time with peace
at least as firm as ocean mornings thick
in calm, the wrinkling waves all ironed, creased
in whitened folds where scented breezes lick
the promises laid bare as grains of sand.
A God of Visions staring steadily,
the vistas cupping woman, child, and man,
abysses gaping wide to draw us heavenly.
Stark miracle to pause, and looking see;
Great God of comets, cocoa, kelp, and flea.
Photo: flickr - andreyphoto