Flat like foccacia–
but restless
exposed and
pressed up to sky
like souls.
It tosses back
clouds and stars
and gazes up at
God.
** I wrote this poem while lying on a dock along the Chester river, a tributary of the Chesapeake Bay. The river is beyond lovely — but endangered.
Staring at the mirror surface, which dimples at the slightest breath of wind, I pondered how creation responds to God and reflects his glory. I imagined how God and the river play catch with the stars, and how the river experiences God’s loving.
While environmental stewardship is so important, the greater certainty is that someday this river — and all its blue crabs, oysters and rock fish — will be set free from pollution, degradation and exploitation.
Then will the river clap its hands!
Psalm 98:8, Romans 8:19
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