the trust

The Trust

When the azure far mountain smokes Turkish
blend that is a whisper in the air as a stream
meanders amongst clover, leafy trees and
pretty flowers. And the sea is liquid mirror that
reflects the blue sky and wooly lambs graze on
a heavenly canvas. That’s when we love nature
and give thanks to an absent god.

When the sea rages, sinks ship and lashes shore
tsunami waves, and Thor wields his hammer and
sends embers fly through the night, streams burst
banks and drown flowers, and the mountain blasts
darkens the sky and the earth trembles. We start
over again build a cathedral to honour the absent
one; blaming god is a waste of time.