everything and nothing

god is nature,
the wind, the rivers, and the trees.
god is the dimple in my son’s smile,
the dirt path under my feet and the rotting leaves, 
the tears traveling down my cheek.
god is the cancer in my dead father,
the warm embrace of a friend,
and the smooth palm 
i am holding.

god is the universe,
a supernova, a galaxy, a meteorite.
god is math and science, plus and minus,
poetry, dance, theatre, art, music and language.
god is the lethal venom in a snake’s bite,
my deep despair and painful grief.
god is change, forward motion,
growth and

god is a birdsong,
the look in my lover's eyes.
god is my son’s ravaging seizures,
the vacuous cold of space,
the dazzling glint of sunshine off of rippling water.
god is cruelty and kindness.
god is a tsunami, an earthquake,
famine and 

god is the sweet taste of ripe fruit,
the bitter talc of cocoa bean,
an endless pebble beach with foamy lapping waves,
the scalding volcano someone jumps into.
god is complex and simple,
beautiful and hideous.
god is everything at once,
and nothing
at all.

photo by Michael Kolster