ENOCH JOHN - Communion

Dawn, sweet communion with man
The sky an upturned mirror
Of the world, the white cirrus clouds
As people dancing in silent meditation
Of a new-world cadence,
The gulls in the bay assemble their own orchestra.

Morning at daybreak of soul's communion,
With waves like pews on a weekend Sabbath,
The sands coarse as the worshippers assembling
To be washed again and again by the ripple of the Word,
Doubt your doubts and believe
As the sands of the shore and
Dance to the tune of the wave -rhythm
In a morning sweet communion,
When ocean's liquid letters sparkle in their wet essence,
The sands of time clamouring to be heard above the groundswell,
Clamouring to tell their own sad tale of bondage.

ENOCH JOHN

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