Lord, I still await the tide

and a breeze to stir the sail

the sea becalmed, I still abide

and pray my faith not fail


Oh, may there come a whisper

and too the breath of God

to stir awake the canvas

the lines and haleyard


May the broadcloth billow

and so break the water's grasp

that seems to lock in irons

the keel, the hull, the mast.


As the sailor waits the tradewinds

or the farmer prays for rain

a poor unworthy seaman

longs to ride your waves again


If Samson's hair could grow again

and Jonah leave the whale

I know the wind will blow again

be it gentle breeze or gale.


Ingimar DeRidder 9/93