drunk on fumes

there is this feeling in your chest,
and it is both lightning and thunder
and it is holy. 

the beat of your heart is steady and loud,
echoes like sound in a church yard,
like a thousand voices raised in prayer,
you are devout but your god is not their god.

your god is 71% water,
it is the house of humanity,
and of every other species we know.

your god is angry,
fed from tornadoes,
drunk from the fumes of volcanoes.

your god is pure,
crystalline structures shining in moonlight,
salt lakes and craters of gold in the ground.

your god is loving,
the cradle of life everlasting, repeating,
a cycle that winds back to the beginning. 

your god is the earth,
and you bow to it every night in your dreams,
and every day as you walk on it’s surface.

—  your god // l.s.