On Finding God After the Rain

I found God today, in a patch of mushrooms.
They, golden-domed pavilions in emerald grass,
with cap, stem and gills—His divinity looms
in them. They astound me with intricacy.

I found God today, walking a black street
turned blue by the sky in its still, broad puddles—
Heaven’s streets are paved with gold, but now they meet
me, as I walk these streets here paved with Heaven.

I found God today, I found His Son in bark
of a tree, rough like the rough wood that scraped His
shoulders whipped raw when He bore my cross, that dark
dark day—with light for me shining through branches.

I found God today, in a raindrop falling
from a flower at my touch, like a blood drop,
tear drop on His face at His Father calling
Him to anguish and abandonment for me.

I found my God today—for He is ever
here, wooing me, showing me His hidden face,
His silent voice, the world He made never
hushed, but always shouting His name with joy.