From here on the brink, the cool, clear water,
gently lapping at my feet and the earth beneath,
draws me sincerely into its shallows
and still beckons me come deeper.
I am loath to follow,
for in the midst of the rushing water is a torrent of lost control
from which the overwhelmed struggle to upright themselves,
though the hearty welcome submission to the mighty flow.
As the flood meanders its too-seldom-mapped course
and rushes to an unknown but surely glorious abode,
endlessly drawn by love unfeigned,
those taken by the wiles of the ever-widening and rising way
undulate through the ebb and flow of ecstasy and desperation in the pools and the foam,
some even finding a way of escape to the imagined freedom of the shallow edge.
But those who through unworldly perseverance find peace in the arms of the current,
ever directed by the sovereign and invisible majesty of this winding tributary,
find themselves at the last precipice of wonder
with fear consoled wholly by the destiny’s splendor.
That place is where the water falls,
with those carried by it,
beyond the rock to a depth unmeasured and unseen by those entered before,
where the fate of vessels yielding to its call is only truly known by those beyond,
and here we woefully attempt to comprehend the inexpressible glory.
Yet here I stand,
confounded in vanity by questions unworthy of response,
nonetheless unable to betray the power of my love.
The deep, the Deep, Oh! the Deep is my home,
and how I long for grace to go where the blessed hearts find Him.