Late Night Theodicy in Free Verse

The tide came shifting
Water and reeds, reeds and sands
And paths to shore all vanished or looked alike.
The tide came sucking
There rose the weary stench of wasted lands
And reeds which broke, which pierced the desperate leaner-
The hands which longed to rest from reaching out.
The tide came rising
And dim waters eddied- My foot vanished,
Gleamed white, was obscured.
Was torn by shells, but staggered forward.
The sand was tugging
Only the urgency of the dragging nightmare-
Nearly to my knees now.
And desolation of grey skies.
Gulls cry somewhere. A pelican makes a ponderous dive
Farther out. Bobbing on sulky swells
On treacherous depths.
I halt between the insistent sands, the lurking waters, the sullen day.
A breeze came ruffling. Danced shyly through the reeds.
Remembered, reaching me, that breezes here
Are nothing but the breaths
Of faltering souls-
Became a spray of salt.

It seemed, there was the day-
A lone expanse.
The sand, the day, and I, and no escape.
Nothing ahead for me but stormy depths,
And nothing behind which tides had not erased.
The mocking slap, breath, slap of lapping water;
Nothing to trust in all the waiting marsh.

One looks for solid ground.
One wants to say, 'A dry spot- here I stand!'
To scrub away the blackness of the swamps.
To step beyond the clawing shades of mangroves.
Shelter from sudden rains.
Footing against the dark uncertain waters.
And yet, for me, none came.
Only a lone bird sobbed.
I fought for ground- sank deeper-
The sands have langorous arms, but grips of steel...

Then somewhere, through the fog, a whisper came-
A voice cut through the wilderness- but WHAT?
Could He ask THAT of me? Please understand-
I couldn't hold what little ground I had-
To GIVE?
To give ground up? How foolish!
All the same,
The voice insisted- what had I to lose?
And what to gain?
So, cautiously I knelt.
The sibilant waters caught with eager hands-
My skirt- its floating hem, my waist- it seemed
They'd grapple at my throat- I staggered up
More prisoned than before, and drenched besides.
"Lord, something else! That way-
It MUST be wrong! It must!
You mean, there is no other? Only this?"

The tides come rising.
Gargoyle faces mock me from the reeds.
The currents hiss.

Can I concede?
Can I accept the clutching of these sands?
The taunting of this water?
The flogging of those waves?
Perhaps I have my rights, and could demand
Answers and proof and evidence- but no.
He won't give that.
There is Himself and me-
Before us both,
The choice:
Obedience, or not.

I knelt again.
The water seemed less cold, the marsh less foul.
The trick was to relax.

There comes a point when no one tells you why.
To know- to know He IS must be enough.

The sands still tugged
And still I sank.
Almost, the wind forgot to grieve, and stayed to mock.
"Where has He brought you now?
Why languish on the altar of His choice?
Child, who will ever know?
He's one who gives so little, asks so much-
And what have you to show
For all your pains?"
I could have tried to tell them all He gave- that altars have their joys-
But I replied:
One had to cast one's life upon the waters at His call
To be buoyed up.
It wasn't mine to choose
The contents of the cup
But, drink, or to refuse.

The breeze subsides.
I find at last, the bitter, bitter waves
Are His embrace-
Are salted by His tears-
The dragging day
Is tender with His touch
And my weak hands
Are warm within His hands-
His poor hands crushed- and crushed for me!

It has to be enough.
An answer for surrender, and descent.
For all the bones in all the mournful deep.
No other answer comes- I am content.

The tide came shifting
Water and reeds, reeds and sands
And paths to shore all vanished or looked alike.
The tide came sucking
There rose the weary stench of wasted lands
And reeds which broke, which pierced the desperate leaner-
The hands which longed to rest from reaching out.

Be still and know.