On Finding A Quiet Place

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On Finding A Quiet Place

There is a paradox in these hours spent awake asleep on the sea
Uncertain at what it is
Exactly
That lies below
Confident in what we see
The surface gives a nod with this very much alive
Twinkling
Like a million silly winks
Her countenance shines, her invitation to join her
We slap slap slap the wet wild surface, with little boat we trust
Like an old man slaps a toe-headed child’s back
In an overly familiar act of brutal love

We grant the mystery of the unseen
A sweet secret keeping place
We have seen them released to us
Confidence builders left as fragmented treasures
Gifts from the sea, encrypted letters
We read always, between the lines

We are here
By choice and grace
A combination which comes around in life
More often than I can count
Though it feels rarer than a left handed conch
At times
We must speak it, in unison
To remember it is true

We have found a quiet place
Gathering moments
Away from our shore
Lost for awhile
At the mercy of the mysterious
Deep blue sea

We must whisper it, in a prayer voice
To Him
In salty, sea-foamed gratitude

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Please join me at my new writing home, “A Quiet Place For Words”. A place I have carved our for pulling words through the blank canvas of the page. It is quiet there. And I am settling in and unpacking in this new place. Still blogging here, but making a home too for you and me in a subscriber only format. Click here to sign up (A Quiet Place For Words) It is free. I like it there. But more importantly, I hope you do.

Joining Sandra Heska King for Still Saturday

2 thoughts on “On Finding A Quiet Place

  1. Being a Pacific Ocean girl much of my younger life, your words melt my heart, sending known feelings scattering all around me. I miss her, yet I can feel her. I spent many days and evenings sitting there to hear the constant thrust of water upon sand, the roar of large walls of water pounding the seashore. In those times, I wrote poetry for my eyes only. I loved that time and you have reminded me. I think I will find that notebook to read a few of those 40-50 year old poems.
    Glad I came by, Elizabeth, and will go check out your new place.
    Caring through Christ, ~ linda

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