I do not understand the salty speech
Of the roiling, storm punctuated sea
The crowd of gossamer clouds I beseech
To solve the riddle of the sky for me
Their only reply is the bitter rain
Even the rocky soil shows me contempt
More ancient than my own is its cold pain
Vexed by sea, sky and soil, I must attempt
To find solace in dialogue with God
Mortals have written much at his behest
But how they read his words strikes me as odd
They preach love, but from hate know little rest
Unknowing and alone, I must find out
Where wisdom hides that will end fear and doubt
About the Creator
D. J. Reddall
I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
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