The Vibrant Channeled Creator

watercolor by Neil Waldman

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

poem by Joyce Kilmer

But the Silence in the Mind

But the silence in the mind
is when we live best, within
listening distance of the silence
we call God. This is the deep
calling to the deep of the psalm-writer,
the bottomless ocean
we launch the armada of
our thoughts on, never arriving.
It is a presence, then,
whose margins are our margins;
that calls us out over our
own fathoms. What to do
but draw a little nearer to
such ubiquity by remaining still?
R.S. Thomas