God of Horizons by Sarah Soltis

You are blue meeting blue
in unbroken symmetry.
You are in the highways and high places.
In the dirt red roots,
in the treetops, in the rustling.
Please forgive or, perhaps, entertain
me: you are Paradox
approachable only in poetry.

You are there on the horizon,
breathing the earth’s great unearned beauty:
this is the first grace,
unfurling eternally.

Somehow you are the Word and, still,
the silence, familiar with quiet.
As for me, I am wordless
but for my half-patterned praise at the
un-understood mysteries of your combined
and complete identity –
Comforter. And yet,
Composer of everything.

Sarah Soltis writes from Maryland. She is managing editor of Front Porch Republic, and she has published work in The American Conservative, Ekstasis Magazine, and elsewhere. She enjoys long walks and dark roast coffee.