step.

dark are the nights
in which i walk the sand of the seashore
begging
searching
hoping
for answers among distant waves
waves that toss and turn and collide
waves which--at first glance--seem so tangled together

and yet
there is something about the sea
and those waves

i stand at the same spot on the sand
looking out across the morning light
and i see the turning and churning
the aching and breaking
of last night's watery questions
and though the tide still ebbs and flows,
though the answers have not washed ashore,
the silence is calming
dare i say comforting.


tender is the Voice that speaks to my soul
and gentle are the Hands that hold mine each night
as my eyes close to rest
and my heart breathes more easily once again.


H