At the edge of now; Searching for not yet
What is; What is to come,
Warm brushstrokes of hope bleeding into the dark sea of unknown,
Plans harpooned; Disquieted and motionless
As stillness ripples across the white caps of uncertainty
Fingers of light touching things submerged,
The meeting place of lungs and gills,
Anticipating, trembling; Longing waiting,
Humming with hope, Holding still,
Peace in knowing; Faith in waiting,
The crossing place where the Divine teaches us,
To walk across sin’s sinking surfaces,
Holding His guiding hand home.