With anxious prayers and pounding heart
she drifted in her storm-tossed vessel
filtered images and down she went
death that breaks on water mocks.
‘Here I am Lord, veiled in darkness.
hold me tight, hold me tight.
I pray your wings will shelter me
from the bowels of the door of night.”
Body torn and bruised with thrashing
an angel sang, "It's not your time"
and pierced the clouds with ardent light
about the center of unconsciousness.
She was laid upon her downy bed
between sleep and waking all stood still
Watching, waiting, shall we cry out loud?
then the angel whispered in her ear-
"So many pearls for you to gather
and place upon a silver strand.
A daughter waits along the road
To clasp them with the love you bear."
As morning stirs the limbs and heart
two as one, recover arm in arm.
Her lucid eyes reveal her rapture
an ethereal dream of sublime pearls.