Harmonies in rise and fall, fall and rise;
Sea’s tide echoes off four block walls of that African church.
Across the sandy field with ear to the door,
Wave pushing forward, bubbling fervor of breath and Spirit;
Souls lifting salty offering,
Song of Ascent, poured out,
Splashing down on Galilee’s shore,
Feet of Christ wetted with tears.
Thoughts from a quiet night 