Sometimes You are the indistinct spot,
an out of focus horizon
losing colour to the vagueries of distance.
Hedges and fences my defences
against what You may ask of me.
Fields and copses
of my realities -
exposure or shield
in the conduit between here and there.
Sometimes You are the certain stone stile
that bridges the immediate;
breaches the ramparts of my trouble.
The path prepared for safe traverse.
Sometimes you are the staggering view
that overwhelms when the mist lifts
and a different clarity prevails.
Sometimes You are the warmth of the sun
in the daily chill of Autumn.
I allow You
to be God.