Secrets of the Sea
©2017 Susan Noyes Anderson
When my own tides are at low ebb,
I stand beside the sea.
Bright waves of truth I used to know
come washing over me.
When my own tides are at low ebb,
I stand beside the sea.
Bright waves of truth I used to know
come washing over me.
I grew up in a simpler time,
when roles were more defined.
Perhaps I should have felt constrained.
In truth, I did not mind.
In ways I cannot always see,
I know God watches out for me––
His loving instinct to protect
expressed as I might not expect.
Tonight the lights blew out on me
at 12:06 AM.
The darkness swept in like the sea;
the power’s out again.
You don’t understand me,
he said.
No one knows
of the suffering
stored in my soul.
I think I may have lost the knack
that surely was my stock in trade
in days gone by. The years have made
me less adept. I’ve gone off track.
Just jotting down a word or two
to let you know that I love you
and need you, too, if truth were told.
(The bathroom grout is sprouting mold.)
Easter means more to those who know
the echo of a voice unheard,
the sound of silence in the air,
the loss that leaves no parting word.