God of the Grizzly

I worship the God of the grizzly.

He invented volcanoes, black holes, and whale song.

For Him the twisters dance, the bucks rut, and Saturn’s rings glisten. He crashes the waves against the rocks. He covers the poles with eternal ice, and hurls comets and meteors through endless space.

He walks barefoot on the surface of the sun, rides the storm clouds as a chariot, causes the earth to quatke with a stomp of His feet.

He gives wings to eagles, fangs to wolves, attitude to alligators, and life to me.

He’s the Wild One.

The gales of hurricane are no match for the blast of His nostrils.

The nuclear holocaust of a star’s heart is but a glimmer compared to the white heat of fire in the heart of my God.

He won’t be tamed, boxed, commercialized, explained, or predicted.

T Rex was His toy, the river otter is His clown, aurora borealis His night light, great barrier reef His wading pool.

He screams with the hawk, growls with the thunder, and dances with the dolphins.

He is the Wild One, and I am His son.