sea green

it's a sea of green.
a wet
emerald from the hill top
where we sit.

who could invent such a sight,
no ink
no paint, no careful
hand
could possibly create

what lies before us.
this majestic vision.

how can there not be a God
you ask
yourself,

even in the midst of sorrow.

even with the wind in your hair,
the beauty
of you in my mind.

how can there not be more than
this day
we struggle in.

each day a journey to the other
side.