Waves roll onto the shore.  The sound, soft and steady but not perfectly so. Far enough to watch outside the halo of town. Yet, still within reality's grasp. Warm sand embeds itself in nooks and crannies. The balmy breeze blows tresses free. No longer constrained and swinging wildly in the evening air.  Enticingly yellow sunset with clouds like meringue and white smoke.

Painted golden sun
Sleepy on the horizon
Awed into silence

A short drive in God's hands and it seems a better place.  That buttercup and frothy sky heals unknowingly.  Lapping sea and glorious firmament are proof enough.  What is faith to a doubter?