top of page

Parable of the Sea

  • Writer: cjoywarner
    cjoywarner
  • Jun 21
  • 2 min read

Updated: 2 days ago

ree

Waves, tumbling broken shells in the unbroken crash and hush of tide,

skidding to shore and crawling backwards, spent, subdued,

gurgle rising, falling psalms as seagulls circle,

swoop for food,

hum the mystic song of sea wooing sand,

as though a cup forever spills but scoops, a juggler tosses,

catches, a sower throws seed

and reaches back into the bag.


Long sweethearts, drawn to the ritual of sea rinsing shore,

we hand in hand wade ankle deep, ignore

bare feet cringing from the puncture of sharp shells,

salt-foam stinging sun-dried, cracking skin,

but stretch taut minds to the vague horizon of sea

becoming sky.


Evening sun fans wings of gold from sky to sea,

sparkling and rippling and dancing in my eyes,

like lost dreams drifting back to me.

A wave surprises,

gargling backwash sucks away the sand between our toes.

We laugh, squeeze wet hands--

the anchor holds.


A somersault of waves lifts tiny stones,

in soft plop sinks them back again;

a gentle scraping like knuckles on a washboard

drags back shells flung before.

A cresting breaker smashes,

rocking driftwood on the beach, and blankets velvet fizz

around our feet.

We move to dry sand; the tide is coming in.


Seagulls by the hundreds bounce the waves,

flutter upward, and resettle in the spray;

one rides the wind, soars and dives at ease

like an empty swing still swaying,

just abandoned.

What a release to fly or swim--!

but our footprints mar the network of three-pronged

bird tracks all along the shore.

Sand squeaks beneath our weight.

A lonely cry screams freedom.

A cadenced riddle answers, broods, in the wrinkling surf.

The overlapping surge both leaves

and claims life's fractured things.


And our quiet conversation like the murmur of the waves,

turns over and over shells of old dreams broken

in the undertow of years--

cherishes,

then surrenders them, again.

And love, like many waters still returning,

still believes,

still lifts my aching soul as an incoming tide

and sweeps me back to God again.

--CJW--


ree

Recent Posts

See All

2 Comments


Autumn Grace
Autumn Grace
2 days ago

This is beautiful. I love anything about the sea. 😊 🌊

Like
cjoywarner
cjoywarner
2 days ago
Replying to

Thank you so much! I wrote this from my detailed journal notes from a vacation my family took to Ludington State Park. This is about Lake Michigan there. 😊 The "companion" is imagination! Haha. But I was also thinking about my parents' enduring marriage through the years and how they took walks along Lake Michigan there!

Edited
Like

© 2024 by by Carolyn Joy. Powered and secured by Wix

bottom of page