A Voice

I hear a soft voice amidst deafening din of daily grind: Where's the forest dark and dense; the mountain high as heavens-- its shadow, a looming doom? Where's the valley that dews dawn to dusk, too deep to fill? Or the gulley wide and yawning? Or the sea fathomless, bottomless, a home for leviathans, a womb for tsunamis; frothing and foaming, howling, humping to the shore where a tiny grain wiggles, scoffing the scorching glare. The grain jiggles on the beach sparkling in the sun. His voice rings a deafening roar: I'm F-A-I-T-H. I'm higher than heavens, wider than earth; deeper than the deeps... Creation stills, cowering at his voice. Trees wither; rocks shear off in splinters, tumbling down in clouds of dust, spraying shrapnel on persons away from the voice. Out of my spell, I crawl to the beach. © 2018 Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi