WOMB OF GOD

WOMB OF GOD

Beach…Trinidad, California

Corinne Mustafa - December 31, 2000

Walking on the beach in the crystal of a winter sun

Ending 2000 where, for me, it had begun

In Northern California

So quiet and peaceful to enjoy.

I look at the masterpiece before me and

An interesting thought occurs ---

My God must have a million point IQ!

A novel thought - I think, and so will you.

But contemplate on it a bit with me.

As I tour you through

The womb of God.

For who can know the mind of God -

Yhe how and why of things we see each day

And take for granted without even asking why?

How could any mind conceive

The wonders that I’m so enjoying here.

How can it all work together following rules

What no man could formulate or orchestrate

The Genius of the universe devised.

(Eat your heart out you Einsteins of the past)

Not even a million IQ - more like infinite.

But today for some reason the cold, sparkling beauty of this beach

Gives me pause and takes my breath away.

Could it be the unaccustomed chill of a winter day

Not usually associated with a beach?

Where I am usually found in summer’s warmth

Not knowing winter warmth in cold coexists.

Crashing waves.

A faint echo of the roar heard

When the creation of the Universe occurred.

The splendor of God’s boutique shown in full array

Watercolors could be painted on a paper bright-

Blue, turquoise, white, charcoal, and dark olive

moving and catching the light.

Haze hanging low over the cool, unconcerned ocean horizon

Turning azure sky to powder blue out there.

Forming an enclosure to hold it all and me.

The womb of God.

Delicate wind.

Is that the wind gently blowing on my face

Hardly a curl disturbed and still I feel

The coolness blow across my brow -

Could it be the breath of God?

Gritty sand.

Wet from the receding foamy tide.

Some polished and puddled with naught to mar its face.

Some with loss of its pristine plane

Where I spy footprints in the sands of time

Reflecting visitors in this holy place.

Shoe soles plain or boasting of their swirling treads

One set of prints calls to mind the British flag

Have carved a path and some,

In spite of winter chill

Have passed with bare feet to taste the salt and sand.

And paw prints running side by side to shoes

Show others who have come.

I see two of “man’s best friends”

Cavorting, jumping, barking in play

Another braving the freezing waves to get her master’s stick

All part of the ongoing creation

In the womb of God.

Resplendent rocks.

How did you arrive to delight me here?

Silent sentinels

Ancient slides of the land to the sea

Or picked up by mighty waves and dragged to dot the shore.

Or in the ball game of creation I imagine....

Father, did you toss them here?

To add a myriad of colors and shapes

Breathtaking and pleasing to the eye

One particular striated with mottled jade

Fading into a charcoal base

As if two separate pieces conjoined

With its small companion at one side

Contrasting with shades of plumy grays.

Shapeless elephantine hulks

It giving hint of ancient objects long gone

Petrified shapes.

One a Christmas tree with flocked and drooping branches

One huge boulder with two smaller sidekicks

Could be an ancient giant toad

Frozen there before it could ever leap.

And in the tide

Come in little sister stones - tangerine size

Swimming relentlessly towards the beach

Three steps forward two steps back

Pushed in - pulled out by the endless tide.

One by one they finally arrive to shore.

Players in the drama unfolding

In the womb of God.

Aloof island.

Detached about a hundred yards from shore

Do you think yourself better than your land bound cousins

Rock root pounded by the perpetual surf

Keeping guard over your beach

A crew cut crown of evergreens

Reach to heaven and give nest to gulls

Has human foot trod on your granite crag

Or just spied you from the beach

Another puzzle piece of this coastal room

In the womb of God.

And as I stop here looking out to sea

Telling myself that to me

The ocean is the MOST beautiful

Of God’s created beauty.

When other remembered sights

Come to flood my mind

As surely as the waves of this tide coming in.

My mind’s eye sees places, people, and times

Whose memories delight me as they pass:

A spring poppy blazing orange against grass and rocks,

First sight of Yosemite at that vista point,

Cades Cove, the Smokies’ lap of green,

The White Mountains home of New Hampshire’s Old Man,

A dessert garden as spring flower explosions appear,

My husband waiting at the altar - two becoming one

Later years enjoying memories shared,

The sight of my newborn babies - later a grandson,

The smile of a friend when first we meet,

And looking to

Many more untasted treats to come.

How do you choose what is most beautiful

In the womb of God.

And so I stand on my personal, chosen bastion

Cold and hard beneath my feet.

Gazing out on today’s particular view

Thankful for the gift it gives to me

I cannot do much but sing my song

Calling IT the most beautiful

But knowing that there are many sights yet to see

So many experiences left which will delight

As life goes on its daily trek

Just standing in awe and thankfulness

For all that comes from His unbounded IQ

The miracles that continue to unfold

In the womb of God.