In hope, believe that peace will come again.

Face to the sea, with sun upon my back.

     I lean into the wind… steady, strong, and chill.

          The stinging spray rouses my numb soul.

I stand, just stand, and look.

Water so vast, so deep.

      Who can grasp the volume of the depths?  

           It scares me… just a bit… to think of all that weight.

Waves crash hard against the shore.

Foam escapes, rushing up to grasp at freedom from the pull.

          One gasp of breath and drawn back down

                    to join the clear gray green.

The rhythmic peace,

        untiring sound,

               lulls against the danger of that strength.

Sand and rocks upon the shore,

       as far as I can see.

I crouch to choose among the pebbles.

I’m small as sand beside those waves that crash the shore.

         Yet, I know the joy of the chosen.

                I know this, though all around may seem but cold and fog.

Keep me safe, O my God. Let me not be lost along the shore.

            Forgotten, kicked, and sifted by the sea.

     May I be as one plucked up and held tight in your hand.

            Saved for a purpose yet unseen.

And, so I stand, a witness to the wild dance of the shore.

The roar of wind and waves demands I listen.

           My weary soul obeys the call to rest.

     The setting sun, a warm wrap on my shoulders.

           The glow of home to come shines in the dusk.

Be still.

Breath deep.

In hope, believe that peace will come again. 

                     ~Sara~