Friday, November 20, 2015



You taught Peter to walk on the water –
until fear turned his feet to lead.

Now, You’re urging me to float
this concrete body

upon a plane so insubstantial,
not grabbing or flailing;

not reaching back upon the empty
mechanics of swimming,

but lying gently
in the shape of a cross,

drifting towards infinity,
feeling at my neck’s nape,

and the small of my back,
Your fingertips …

until they, too,
dissolve into Ocean.

O child of God, trust the Sea.
Roll with the waves.

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