Pray
I listen to G-D’s voice
when wind brushes against grass,
when waves gather momentum
before spending their foam
on a shore dotted with Sandpipers
I see G-D’s hand in orange and red
hoodoos reaching upward—
becoming a cathedral of spires
I stretch my hand until my fingers
touch layers
of sandstone, shale, and limestone—
a story two billion years old
I inhale the aroma of rain washed herbs
I pray to this G-d of creation
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