Have I come at last to trust you?
Lord, forgive my long delay.
It’s your patience that has done this,
if I’ve found the homeward way.
Now it’s brought me to the shoreline—
What is this you have for me?
For the path I’d learned to follow
disappears into the sea.
Must I walk into its waters?
They have vanished in its roar,
all your foregone sons and daughters
crossing over to your shore.
Are they lost? Will I be lost, then?
Do you hold them even yet?
Lord, will even my poor flotsam
make its way into your net?
If the waters part before me
or the breakers overwhelm,
still you’ve made a mansion for me
on dry land or in the swells;
then I must embrace the wave, here—
turquoise, azure, midnight blue,
deep and deeper still, my savior,
as you draw me near to you.
Limosa fedoa is walking at Ocean Beach at low tide against the sun. By Brocken Inaglory – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=12079178
Kate Bluett 