Seagull Point

At sunrise, you call to us.
At sunset, you call to us.
We part-time pilgrims,
lunch break contemplatives,
half-hearted seekers—
you welcome us without complaint.

Your whispering waves call forth
my grief, my anger, my tenderness,
my jealous craving, my misplaced love,
this melancholy longing for another world.
So many things in my heart
don't seem to belong anywhere

yet you accept them, accept me—
whoever I am, whatever I am today.

All you ask of us, Great Lake,
is that we wade into your water,
stand still awhile, and breathe
in the steady rhythm of your love.