Antiphonies

Along some rocky bank
Of wave-bleached stone,
Threshed sand, tangled strands
Twisted weeds like strings of
Ransomed pearls
Where brave men stand alone
And weary women glean
With spines like wilted stems
Both holding hands
In the ebb and flow
Salt-licked gusts the
Howling metronome of the
Foamy churning of days-
Along this bank
I broadly face the sea
Echoing the sirens’ call
In soft falsetto tones
Harmless in humility
Helpless in my humanity

And out upon the vast expanse
The Great God hovers
So I send my call,
My love song,
Across the misty-tided
Ocean of evidence

He called for me first.

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