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Low tide in the dark of the mind, Drip of the clock, thunder in time. A door in the distance, framed by trust, Breath on the water, word in the dust. I walk the edge where the old world ends, Weather of fear on the skin of men. Blueprints whispered in midnight rain, Measure the wood to the shape of faith. Hammers talk in a language of hope, Each quiet strike says, don’t let go. Sky gathers weight, the ground forgets, But a promise stands where the flood will set. Foot on the plank, heart in the chest, I carry tomorrow across the mess. Pairs of breath, names unspoken, Life in motion, order re-opened. Waves preach judgment, drums of the deep, But mercy hums in a steady beat. Not by my strength, not by my sight— By a call that cuts through the night. When the windows break in the clouds above, I learn the sound of obedient love. When the doors are sealed by a higher hand, I float on a vow I don’t understand. Carry me through the rising blue, In a vessel shaped by what is true. From ruin to rest, from storm to sign, I ride the line of the divine. Carry me through, I answer “Yes,” In the ark of trust, I find my breath. Forty beats of the rain’s refrain, Old names wash from the world’s domain. Inside this hull, a future waits, Seeds of light behind iron gates. The deep remembers how to bow, The chaos kneels to a sacred now. I count the days by a dove’s return, White winged news of a greener burn. Carry us through the rising blue, In a vessel shaped by what is true. From threat to grace, from night to sign, We cross the line of the divine. Carry us through, we answer “Yes,” In the ark of trust, we find our breath. Silence after water, a trembling land, Footprints of mercy in settling sand. A bow in the sky draws a covenant arc, Light on the edge of a drying dark. Law in the clouds, peace in the field, What was concealed is now revealed. From lone witness to promised worth, Heaven writes on the face of earth. Carry me through the rising blue, In a vessel shaped by what is true. From calling to bond, from dust to sign, I walk the line of the divine. Carry me through, I answer “Yes,” In the ark of trust, I find my breath. Waters recede, the rhythm stays— A steady law for latter days. Build when the sky still looks like glass, Trust the word as the storms amass. I step into light with a grateful scar, Saved by a door and a distant star. Ordered end, beginning clean— Faith afloat in the in-between. Amen.