Often it is the ocean itself
that speaks in its roiling voice
its thunderous tongue.
What it is saying
I have listened to for years,
as it crackles and whips,
or whispers in its silken tones.
Even now I am not sure of its message,
its assaults of thrill and boom
shattering the rocks
into flares of light.
Something about Mystery,
something about uncontainable
Love.
Each new season evokes a resurgence of new energy, a new beginning. We know that from the darkness and deep silence of earth life, there springs and flourishes that which flowers in beauty. When we plant bulbs in the Fall, we have faith that from that brown globe rooted in decay will come a creation so charged with beauty as to seem a veritable breath of God. And, we can trust that each of our fears and problems, rooted in God-soil deep within, will bring forth blossoms in due season.