Finding God

Come with me into the meadow of the mind where God is found. Its ambience is of reflection, and cannot be earned. It is the ringing in the far-off hills, never heard above the silence of the damned. It is the glimmer of the light just after sundown as it falls upon the facing cliffs that form the walls of dreams. It is the unpretentious whispering of love relentless patriots will always bury underneath the fusillade of war. So limns the meadowland of God, footprint of the divine. It is too much to worship, venerate or pray to. Too much to wrap around reality or ever simulate or hold above our heads. It is not to understand; for God may not be any where... at all. ~