Lost in the crenellations of the sea waveA shell, a limpet, hugs the graining sandPassive, quiet, with bent and covered head,Enduring all. Beneath the tough rim, blind.
I take it in my hand, not grabbing, stroking,The tale of tumultuous and terrible seasEtched on its back, the ministry of waterLeaving impressions where the heart had faltered.
Your modest hum, your humble introversion,Denies at root the need for soul's exertion,My eye is clear, said this returning wraith,To make and trust, above all, live in faith.
And hope that He who tamed the seas,Will conquer hell, until at last it freeze.
