I feel this poem is in process and I wrote it last night while painting in my shed. It has been ruminating in my head since a recent camping trip I just finished. It's not complete but as usual I like to put things out in the raw, premature to the pinnacle. To me, it speaks to the general need to explain the unknown. To put a finger on something that is omnipresent and omnipotent. To put a finger on God. There is such a divergence from conventional religions now, that perhaps because of the dilution so to speak, mythologies, superstitions and pagan ritual have a resurgence. Regardless there is a security in a figure that will always be there. Unwavering. Unmoving. Unchanging. Watching the chaos below. The significance of the fist sketch? Well, I'll leave that up to your imagination...