Red Light on South East Main Street

My car clock reads 8:36 A.M.

I have nine minutes to make it to school

and be seated in my government class.

Legally, I should be there in seven but I always test

Simpsonville PD's threshold for disobediance

and reasonably, know I can make it in four.

Gripping my steering wheel tight, I fly onto

South East Main Street,

getting stuck at the red light for the left hand turn.

As I impatiently wait for oncoming traffic,

I see in the distance, above the trees and under a sky of

vibrant orange swirls and pink streaks, the

Blue Ridge Mountains

standing tall.

The sight is soothing;

I've seen the faint outline

everyday since the 

beginning of my time 

and memory.

For a long moment,

I'm floored-

Mother Nature's beauty is

unparralleled

in its

magnificence,

how can I not be

inspired

by Her

unrelenting strength

and passion

and grace?

I wish I, too,

could create marvels and

win battles against man

like Her.

What must it be like,

I wonder,

to be 

simulataneously

the source and bane

of mankind's

existence?

My belief system

declares

"Ashes to ashes,

Dust to dust,"

giving 

Mother Nature

Her place

as a backdrop

to all

lifetimes,

and my Holy Book

describes

my God's wrath

through floods

and storms

and tornados

and fires

and other

tragedies

in the

natural world.

My God is 

given a 

male title,

but He

exercises His

power

through a force

with a 

female noun,

how can I

no be

Amazed

by Her?-

The red light on South East Main Street

pulls me out of my thoughts

because it has suddenly changed to a green arrow,

and I turn away from the breathtaking mural of the

Blue Ridge Mountains,

towards a cinderblock school and looming tardy bells,

my brief reverence for Mother Nature and Her creations

rudely interrupted by what we like to call the

"real world."