Grace
pool newly made from
morning rain, murky brown, burnt
umber, it halts my onward march
I stop to consider my way round
brush and bush lay right
hectic stream lays left
both lead somewhere
playing for time to make my choice
I crouch before it
wondering if I dipped
fingers into its stillness
would I be rebaptized
into ancient creation
layer upon layer of life
brewing, bubbling
in this sudden fen
God's breath still moves
across the waters
pulling from chaos
this sacred pause
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| Presbyterian CREDO, May 2013 |
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