Hope's Arising

I wrote this poem in the hospital waiting room at the Duluth Clinic, overlooking Lake Superior.

Troubled waters swirl and crash
in restless waves
upon the Great Lake's southern side.

And somehow, I identify
with heavy sighings.

But still, looking up and long
I see a large horizon
deep waters fading blue,
reaching up to touch the morning sky.

And in my sighings,
hope's arising. . .

just in time to whisper,
"All is well. Peace be still."