The Sun glistens off the ocean’s face illuminating its grandeur, giving awe to all who brave its windswept shores.
The Sun’s light dances across the surface of the ocean then trickles below the surface to bring life to her many congregants.
Upon the ocean’s surface, fishermen are compelled by her mysterious call as they throw their lines, nets, and rape her womb.
Captains sail the great unknown with their sacred cargo while oil seeps out into the very waters that give them purpose.
Intrepid explorers go from island to island excited to discover new land, but turn their cannons and flintlocks on anything that seems other.
The ocean, full of schools of fish delightfully darting to and fro as they seek warm water and feast upon their daily sacraments, unaware that fraternities of predators lurk in the deep.
The nearly extinct and wounded drift through her halls seeking shelter from that which seeks to harm them, without realising – or perhaps without a choice – that danger is behind every pillar.
Hope. The light still trickles down to those that dare swim.
Warmth flows from the cracks in the ocean’s floor life to even the darkest rooms.
She will be cleansed, renewed, and delighted in once again.
Scribbling Theology: 