Behind the waves, these fingers grasp the domes:
Sea limpets shining pale in swirling sand.
Cool drops of mist burst on my face; I roam,
Feet pounding hollow-sounding rolling strand.
I chase retreating waves, welcome defeat,
And leaping nimbly from the edge, I flee
As hungry foaming fingers grab my feet—
A breathless rhythmic dance, daring the sea.
My footsteps follow fleeing surf; it feeds
A piled crest o’erleaping crests, curling.
It breaks; I brace; the seething swell recedes.
My jub’lant shout, like strong man’s joy, blazing.
So this Your world in exultation cheers,
Bursts with Your life, the music of the spheres.
Poem taken from the 2017 edition of Artos, the literary journal of Bethlehem College & Seminary students.