Like the sailboats drifting out the harbor
on the ebb of the morning tide,
so our lives sail on,
carried by the ebb and flow
of Your solar wind,
O, Great God of Creation.

Yes, every passion burning,
Every private thought
of this human soul
has its birth in Your primordial sea;
each shining moment,
and every secret longing
conceived in the rare air
of Your highest heaven,
far above the round flesh
of this human soul.

Here I stand,
the last port on the route West
before Your dreams and visions
are born in this world,
too often marred
by all who take the current
of Your great ocean
as their own,
and so take to themselves
every impulse of their Creator
As if it is was for them alone.

And so today I welcome
this warm zephyr
that may clear the mist
from the morning harbor
so that Your boats
may sail safely on the tide
and then return to You
with this day’s harvest
from the sea.