I’ve touched the sky.
I knew not the why
Except its glory drew me nigh
O Who am I?
Earth stretching high
On Heaven’s terms I made my cry
And when the earth had strained its length,
With all its strength,
The lightning sprang.
Light slashed through dust with powerful bang!
Air’s stillness rang,
And angels sang.
He lived in the world He believed to be real
Until it breached the material world where he stood
And the mountain quaked and praised the One who made him
Slowly lowering down to the levelness of the plain
From which the lava alone had raised him.
The Psalm of a Volcano
A river runs from me,
And where the river runs, I am also;
For I am the river run,
And the river run is a part of me.
A river runs in me;
It is a river running upward,
For I am he who lets the river run,
And the river runs down all over me.
A river runs to me
From an immeasurable Ocean of rivers to run:
He is the One who caused me to let this river run—
O God, let Your river run through me!
A peaceful mountain green with trees,
Adorned with snow, and swept with breeze
Ashen smoke spreads far and wide,
And orange fire glows inside
Roaring with release.
Passion flows like molten rock
Pouring out as others mock:
“His bursting interrupts.”
When cooled, the land is vast reshaped,
With air enriched by life escaped;
Creation is at peace.