The disciples wait, stunned by senses recently recovered;
And the big deep does not disappoint, o no, o no.
Standing where oceans and continents embrace,
At the splintered, icy edge of a new world,
Followers meet sweet surf with sighs too deep for words,
And surging energy, ancient forces, with wild and open eyes.
There is no sleep in these seas, not here, not now;
The Risen One has awakened in them every muscle and hope.
He dances now on the horizon where dolphins play,
And he watches with friends from the beach,
Where songs are sung and prayers hurled high.
Three times down, beneath the swelling surface,
Three times into the salty deep, where life meets death,
Three times a sign of mystic communion, known and unknown.
Beneath these seas, so many wild things swimming,
Life and centuries birthing still more, always more,
These rippled seas lapping up on countless other shores,
Irish beaches, and Peruvian cliffs,
The besieged cities of Gaza and Africa.
What wondrous love is this! O soul! O sea! O Risen One!
What wondrous love is this! O human heart made for freedom!
What wondrous love is this! O Christ of the water breaking!
Natural Bridges State Beach
Easter Morning, 2015
