So, alright,
it’s metaphoric or literal.
Or, if it’s both,
we are mired in the boggy ground of
biblical interpretation,
trying to find bed rock
while stuck in the sucking ooze.
This time, I’m claiming “literal”
for the fun or it!
So, mountains: stoney, massive monuments
to tectonic shifts,
with endless caves, crags, ledges
and razor peaks cloaked in clouds,
SEE,
witness the rage,
quake in fear, in awe.
And a raging river, deep and powerful,
SPEAKS,
roars as it raises its hands
in supplication
to an indignant God who
marches over the earth,
stamping His feet in temper bursts,
leaving evil squashed in His foot prints.

I like it.

I like the literal panic of
a Seeing Everest,
hiding in clouds
while a deep voiced Colorado,
screams warning as she
gouges her stone edged shores
in her terrified rush to the sea,
while the Sun and Moon
stand still in their places
watching in wondering fright.

Nature as witness,
sentient, aware of its Creators
“…rage, anger, wrath…”
overspilling its border
as He despoils His enemy.

Sort of looses its punch
as metaphor,
doesn’t it?