The moon hangs low over the sea tonight.
The stars burn bright though lesser light.
If I could but walk the moonlit path,
Would I walk to You upon the silver lined bath?
The sea laps a rhythm against the sand.
The edges blurred between sea and land.
If I could swim amongst the darkest waves,
Would I swim to You along moon lit pave?
The wind lifts air and twirls it round and round.
The currents playful and blustery hitting ground.
If I could take the wind and fly over sea,
Would I fly straight to You when of this world free?
The sand beneath my wheelchair wheels is packed.
The sand damp and cool where to sea is backed.
If I could count each grain until the end,
It couldn’t be better than having You as God and friend.
The creation You designed before me spreads.
The creation calls me and to You I’ve fled.
How could I be here before Your creation grand,
And fail to recognize You and the work of Your hands.