By Kessia Robinson

I sit beside a roaring.
All else is removed.
It’s just the lulling loudness
Of the voice of a God—
Just the maker of
Thunder and roses
Carving out the stones
With a puff of frosty breath—
Just Creator and Father,
The tempest and the lullaby.


About Kessia Robinson

Kessia Robinson is an English teacher who takes a book and a notepad with her everywhere, especially while hiking. On the trail, she likes to pause and be still at some point, writing down a poem like a footprint to mark her passing. Her trail notebook is usually wrinkled, battered, and mostly filled.

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