Lake Michigan

A hot horizon floating peacefully
but majestically in the distance.
If you reach out you could caress your fingers
over the silky looking sky,
fading from dark blue to yellow in the sunset,
it would melt all over you,
capturing your body in the warmth of God.
The minute silver crescent in the sky,
like an eye closed for the night,
hangs freely and disappears
into the wisp of a cloud that glides by.
The water is still,
but it looks wild as the sunset
casts a shimmering glow onto the waves.
The darkest parts threaten to swallow
you in the night,
and God’s whisper slithers in the air,
wafting through the breeze that ruffles the waves,
saying, “Be still
and know that I am God.”
God whom created this lake that is angry
in the way that it thrashes
about during the heaviest summer storms.
Peaceful when only when the air is tranquil
and loving, floating over the waves like a whisper.
Old because of its wisdom and strength,
gathered in its depths.
And young because it has to fight
to survive this world
that is constantly changing.
“God so loved the world
that he gave his only son,”
the words are pulsing through the lake’s
heart. It knows that it is loved
by The Lord.