The Open Shore

To bless, He waits, expectant, from His throne

while down below the toilsome ant-roads long

lead peopled millions to their bleak alone,

and darkened nights withhold the joyful song.

He reaches out, His very self to give

while creatures grub for grabbing in their need

and use the crumpled husks of life they live

like ageless wonders that could never bleed.

He gives, then stays, to hear the steadied plea—

that desperate peace and urgency of trust—

while people clamor, restless on the sea

of knotted need entwined around their lust.

And yet, to all, by grace, who come to shore

the Lord of glory opens wide His store.


One thought on “The Open Shore

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