Copy and paste into worship material
I am like my island and my sea.
Sometimes my sea is beset by a foggy
sullen mood of depression, my torpid
indifference makes mariners change course
away from me, to sail to more welcome havens.
I am left to bewail like a forlorn foghorn
Sometimes my encircling sea is an angry one,
driven by winds of my fury. Poor mariners fear
to approach my coasts, lest they be dashed
on the shoal rocks of my animosity and
hopes of ever reaching me perish.
Let my sea be a running one, but safe.
The salt spray, my wit, invigorating.
May the light of truth shine from my surface,
barely broken by the ripples of my inconsistencies.
May those who venture to me, find the journey easy
and the landfall worth the making, so that they
leave me as enriched as I hope I make them.
(John Keggan in From Hands Together, 1987, 26.)