The Sea Gives Back, a poem

the sea takes back the
stones I carry,  buffets
them into gleaming gems,
shining like glass beneath
light-faceted water.
I become the earthen shelf,
shifting against woolen
waves wrapping around me,
my body curving like a crescent
with each lapping pull
the night breaks open
like a piece of fruit, wet
and sweet on the tongue,
scent of brine under
milky moon
and the minstrel sea peels
back untold riches; sings in
me a new topography,
lifts away the heavy stones,
returns his hand to mine.


  1. Jerry says

    This makes me wonder if the stones were on loan of sorts. We carry them if we will, but at some point it’s time to release them, or allow them to be lifted, so our hands are able to take his hands once again. A process of the tension we live in I suppose. I like your use of the word topography. That whole last verse intermixed with music. I think our spiritual topography changes as we find new ways of connecting with the unchanging God. This poem refreshes and encourages me. Thank you.

  2. says

    Ah, thank YOU, Jerry, for such a thoughtful comment. What I am trying to capture here, I guess, is the importance of Sabbath; how it is in the pause and the rest that we are formed into the new. over and over.

  3. Jerry says

    Ah, sabbath sheds more light on the images. Sabbath is not a practice that I excercise often. Sabbath is needed for renewal for this busy person! Thanks

  4. lynndiane says

    i’m a little late to the beach party but just followed Tweetspeak link here. Hope your seaside Sabbath was transformative…like the sea, his Spirit is soothing…and relentless. What a glorious photo and melodic poem!

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