I breathe in beauty to the rhythm of the waves,
their sound and power washing clean my mind
of trifling concerns and numbing stress
I’ve brought here to this shore.

The surging tide, a sharp, in-rushing gasp,
it fills me full of light, and sea, and foam,
a rolling, tumbling, crashing, deep inhale
of boundary-breaching awe.

And, just as fast, it turns to quiet ebb,
a lacy coverlet for flat-smoothed sand
gently pulling back, like a caress,
a soft and cleansing sigh.

I feel the power of this rush and pull,
feel how it trains my soul to match its dance,
how quickly this vast truth of ocean waves
reforms my flighty, earth-bound mind.

But, in that truth, the ocean stays aloof,
her surging unconcerned with my small form.
She moves and sings for her own reasons
and in her own regulated time.

She pays no mind to me and my regard;
cares not that I am learning from her waves.
I’m just a bit of carbon, barely moored
by gravity along her restless shore.

And yet… that gravity controls her too.
Her pull and rush is trained by greater might.
We both are held, and rocked, and shaped
by our Creator’s laws and breath.

Her disregard is nothing to God’s sight:
the knowledge that I’m seen and known and loved.
I can receive the lessons of the waves
while holding also to a deeper truth:

The affirmation of my love-filled worth.