Could you see it
if I asked you to accept mere words for visions
and said there were all
the colors of a salt marsh?
If I told you, the sea presses
her white mouth to the earth
where the green of saltgrass
is a thousand yellows
the yellow of the sedge a million greens
and the black small flies revel in the muck
that lies at the roots
while each dragonfly stitches its portion
of the moment?
I am not arguing for or against God
my only revelation is
the blowing fog
the smoking sun.
Image: processed version of coastal wetlands image (link), published as public domain image.