:::poetry
I have glimpsed the Lord in flashes, thousands.
Standing at the top, edge of a cliff
Auburn braids and loose shirt
Her back turned
Sitting, the edge of a bed
Black golf shirt and sunburn
His head turned
Aghast, anxious for the salt spray
To scrape face
Macerate mind
In a wink

With you, I've wrestled
To the rocks we fell
When we strike the queer earth
The felling's never quelled

Come back around, up onto the cliffside

In flashes, hundreds and thousands
Of the ass-end of a beaten white cargo van
Lights out, careens across the salty ice
Carrying it all and more, the world
Bursting at the seems, the barn doors
Strapped, an old black bungee cord, cracked and torn
Impatient for release

Come back around, down into the sea

Her back turned as the wind picks, up
His head buried as the line wicks, up
Waiting to be touched by angels
or demons.
I reach out my hand.
In flashes,
Flitter off and spray down across the jagged rocks
Lift up and float into the piercing softness of the dock

Violent, I’ve seen you
oh Lord, so violent
Now, wrestle with me.
:::