Day by Day

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The cosmos wheels around in the dance with itself,

Billowing, Turning, Compressing and Exploding,

Waves Hurtling through the Void, aching for a Rider.

The Stuff of our existence opens and closes to the tide,

as surf seeks it's Shore.

Our only imprint, the sense Something has past.

Vortex of distance leeward of our speck in the cosmos

is our wake of light and thought and ever increasing

distance to what we hold dear. Lord turn our forged

Profiles to the onslaught of your Universe.

and the Promises You flood our path with.

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