Green-gray swells billow, unmoor me from shifting earth. Lapis and slate crash, spill,
scour the sky until horizon fades into vapor, vanishes.
My lungs boil with brine.
I claw the deepening dark only to grasp ice and salt, wisps of ghost trails through my fingers.
Sin-clad, I sink,
plummet toward that gulf with no memory, that fatherless tomb.
Yet gleaming metal slices the deep.
You anchor your feet upon the waters. You hold me through the churning.
Upon your whisper I float limp through murk and froth.
You peel off my wretchedness, buoy me through the glimmering.
You press back the tide, break me through the jagged surface.
Seafoam bursts and scatters like quicksilver.
Air blooms anew. I gasp in Your light.