It’s a
sunless winter evening
desaturated and mute
and
as I top the hill
overlooking the tiny town
nestled below
I encounter Him
My eyes widen
My heart
fills
and my very spirit
seems to dance within
Charcoal waves
fog swimming and
swirling slowly around them
reaching high against
the pale canvas of sky
with patches of
dark puddles
crawling above them
and I lose myself
gazing and hypnotized
in awe and wonder
wandering in peace
worshipping in silence
Him
because
He is
those very mountains
and
My God
I can see Him
I can
feel Him

 

“Mist on the mountain rising from the ground. There’s no denying beauty makes a sound”

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