I cried over
the glory of it
she said over
Facebook or coffee
or a pulpit
I hiked
to the mountain
top to watch
it alone
Perhaps this
is the praise
and the glory
she meant
the community
of nodding hikers
at trailheads
I did not see God’s
face, like she did
I saw the clouds parting
the crescent shaped
shadows on clay
the valley’s sweep
below me, miles
of river and forest
Perhaps my miracle
is in the science
the understanding
stars and seasons
the friendship
across faith
Trails for my feet
a time for darkness
a time for light
