Return to the Sea
Upon entering Woods Hole… Dedicated to
Little Fish.
Why doth my
spirit shake so?
What distant
echo has it heard,
to make it
quake with holy joy
and
anticipation? Did whiff of air
bring that
ancient scent of salt
that doth
recall memories of old?
What sight doth
cloth the eye in
wet tear, yet
unseen but felt by heart?
Can Mercy of
God be so great as to
fulfill the
prophesy and hope of yesteryear,
bring me after
long journey home to the sea?
The happy
sight! Oh the happy sight I see
even in the
foggy midst of clouds conspired
to hide the
wide and swelling majesty:
the sea! The
sea doth call with joyful roil
with gentle
crash and foamy wash upon
the beach-head
still in the summer morn.
Good God! The
blood within me calls
to the azure
blood of Earth, in equal
proportion
attesting to the primal
mold of man
from sand and stardust
long ago, to
kneel and meet, sink
within caress
yet cold, but tender
of the
ocean-sea within its fold.
The kiss of
tears, of salty drops I press
and squeeze with
bliss from heart I let
fall and mix
with the coming surf, for
it to take away
my greeting to the world
I greet again.
A world yet unknown and
secret, as the
Face of the Father, covered
not by star and
cloud but depths unconquered
and not
provoking man, tiny wonder.
I missed thine
sight, being landlocked
so long by
snow, by day’s swift journey
and scholar’s
duty. But now free, I augment
my freedom to
knowing you, my ocean.
Wash my face
and bless me with the Touch
of God that
quickens life within thy waters,
that first
received the Breath of God in the world.
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