A sea chantey

By

Rain came grieving across the day And the bell-bouy tolled of endings, With gray waves lapping at the dock In mournful insistence of change, And a gasp of clucking brown dots Swirled round the angle, tightly bunched, Pumping tiny webbed feet of twigs, With the frenzy of divine fire -- Goslings, orphaned by autumn storm, Clutching at life's throbbing purpose, Knowing in their hard-button heads, Certainties, beyond the hugeness Of the engulfing sea and sky And blizzards of weather unknown, Waited, their quaking, fearful hearts, Tenderly held in God's great Hand.

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