I went to the meadow to find God.
The cosmos, coneflowers, and yarrow
testified of your kindness,
and preached to me of your goodness.
The deer and the rabbit shared stories
of your generous hand,
and the morning dew told of how
you resurrected it every morning.
(Lazarus was easy.)

The river was wild with delight,
as it shouted like a wild woman,
consumed by holy fire,
bubbling over with tongues of water and angels,
rolling around the mountain and forest,
pushed and prodded by the Spirit of grace.

The trees in the forest
were turning color.
yellow, red, brown, and orange,
dressed them in favor
more beautiful than the coat of Joseph.
The choir of birds gathered around
and sang ancient hymns and psalms.

In awe, I continued on to the mountain.
Prophecies and stories rumbled
and quaked all around me
like a furious prophet.
The very bones of the mountain
trembling with the weight of a holy word.

The wind led me to the shoreline of the sea,
stirred and broken by a raging storm.
salvation was in every crashing wave,
mercy screaming in every furious torrent,
the blood of Christ-God staining even the deep,
the love of Yahweh swelling in every tide.

How could I not be yours?
It would be easier for the river to dry up,
the mountain to crumble,
and the sea to be calmed.
and it will never be calmed.

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