When one looks across the ocean, or lake, or river, or perhaps the sea in its beginning,
We could look at the color of the water, deep black through which you cannot see,
That beautiful blue that strikes a chord of brilliance, under the suns full beaming,
Or that muddy water grey or brown that keeps us all a floating, and no one to go in,
That rough sea white with foam or broken waves, pounding up the shore to be colored exactly like the sweeps it moves from.
Each one, which one, this or that, can all be eclipsed and darkens out, by God’s light, shining down, unfettered from above.
Ralph Peck
Photography by Marla Bolton
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