How will it be, when the wind blows the clouds about in the sky,
furrowing the heavens with an easle of moisture?
When the very air is bright,
and the ground is covered with light,
playing with the shadows of the leviathans of the air, how will it be?
How will it be, as the waves crash on the Oregon coast,
and the sea salt breeze pushes you so hard that you lean into it to stand straight?
As the cliff you stand on,
water pummeling itself with joy below,
shakes with the force of created goodness,
rocks and stones held together with razor grass roots, how will it be?
As you stand there, air about, clouds above, pushing you in,
As you stand there, cliff beneath, water below, holding you up,
As you stand there, seeing her, through Him, how will it be?
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