The Theology of Hurricanes, Earthquakes, and Floods

Breathe freely, you great and indifferent god.
Shake your mountains and cause your rivers to overflow.
Blow and churn your hurricanes across my beloved Gulf of Mexico--
You have the luxury of staying
Aloof from it all--
Perhaps watching what goes on here.

The Greeks and before them many others wondered about you,
And gave you names.
We have quit that game.
We try to stand erect, and
Try to meet you on our own little platform
Of reason and self and earth--
But perhaps for you all that is less than a speck.

Perhaps the drunken Germans had it right:
You do not care, and you do not care in your own deep and
Special way.

But perhaps certain hungry monks of the middle times,
Living in their hard and cold limestone cells,
Fasting in their hard cells, praying in their foul-smelling habits,
Had it right.
Perhaps it is their vision which resonates
With your grand design:

Perhaps you do care in your own deep and
Special way.

_________________

James Bolner, Sr. ©2004
September, 2004