Natural Awe

Gliding through shimmering mirrors

Passing reeds standing sentry.

Even slow speeds cause ripples,

But oh! What ripples!

Calm grace sliding by

Orange beak, white feathers

Flat against the back;

They don’t notice me.

Orange glow touches the sky

And dark shapes turn into field stubble.

Red streaks amongst the blue

And that old phrase strikes my mind:

Red sky in the morning…

It doesn’t seem true right now

With this majesty of colour

Adorning the heavens.

If I were religious I might

See this display as God’s church

But I know in my heart that

God is not a white man with a beard.

What then is God,

Creator of this beautiful awe?

I both want and don’t want it to be an authority.

I can understand the Christian need for that.

To rest in that idea of infantilisation.

The comfort, the fear, the love.

But I value truth more.

The quiet awe of a sunrise

Has many interdependencies

Just like us

In our relations 

With each other

And our world

And its weather,

Without which

There would be no heavenly sky,

Which inspired painters to

Create their biblical masterpieces.

That awe as one looks to the sky

Does not need a God to complicate it,

To punish people, 

To work in mysterious ways.

It just needs to be felt.

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