Scintilla

How long do I stand here?

Waves roll in

Small stones hiss with gladness

A gull chortles his freedom

And the blue above delights.

You Lord establish the rhythms

The surface tension

The wind that braces

With current life and challenge.

How long?

And I barely get my feet wet

Hands in pockets

Eyes fastened upon briny foam

Advancing to its peak

Collapsing back and under.

Do I seem to you

As one of these waves?

Coming once in weather

You have pre-determined.

Moving, gaining

Cresting, lapsing

Disappearing.

With another right behind.

Or am I ever lost?

Simply flowing elsewhere

As the larger Body

Has willed.

 

Reviews

[James]

Are we in control? Is there a larger plan for us? Or, are we just drifting aimlessly?

That is what I took from this.