Niagara Falls

[NOTE: A brush with death changes people
in a way that is hard to describe.
I wrote this poem at the falls on a vacation,
after battling a life-threatening illness.]

God is here, I hear Him
The rumbling summons
me as I stand with wet
hair pasted to my mouth.

Yes. God is here, I see Him
in the rainbow, rising over
the water as it drifts, dances
leaving, then returning.

Great walls of water
surround me and sing
to Him their own
hymns of praise.

My face is wet with mist.
I breathe in the damp air
the spray–I can taste it
God is here.

I stretch out to touch
the falls–thank you God
for your embrace.

Sharon Palmeri©1986

Published in:

Hoosier Horizon Magazine 1992

**The above printed material is copyrighted, is registered with the Library of Congress and is the property of Sharon Palmeri. Permission is needed before use. Thank you! *S* **

Advertisements