By The Sea of Galilee
Walking softly to where he is
I kneel on the sand
Then rest my head against the stone
He sits upon
In the breeze
His cloak brushes against my cheek
I look upon the sea
He gazes on
Feeling the breeze that he feels
Smelling the sea as he smells it
I feel his peace
So near
He thinks about
Those who know him,
Those who don’t
And all whom he longs for
About all he must do
And suffer
To reach me and the others,
As the seagulls call
Sparkling waves crash their symphonies of praise
And men walk by the Sea of Galilee
Unaware of who sits upon the throne
Unaware of who will call them.
Michele Marie
