Here I Am

God is this morning,

sunlight raking dew-

jeweled leaves.

God is this evening,

stormwinds ripping

up the peace.

I don’t how to reconcile this.

All I can say is, here, I am,

bless what I can’t understand.

God is long hugs

gluing reunited friends.

God is regretful distances

between loved ones

who never speak.

I don’t know how to heal this.

All I can say is, here, I am,

bless what I can’t stitch together.

God is the glisten 

on goslings surfacing

like gold behind their mother.

God is the cloud shadows

that chill families after

they bury their dead.

I don’t know how to carry this.

All I can say is, here, I am

bless what I can’t keep from arriving.

Here I am inside 

the great cathedral

of this present moment,

and maybe I don’t have to

say anything more

than, “I’m nearly ready”

to love the now again.