Thinking about coral reefs: submarine cities, gardens
of cucumber, polyps, anemones, plankton. Here dwell
the diatoms, hid from silver-finned and other creatures,
staring gaping-mouthed, residents of penthouse suites
or terraces of bushy nooks and crannies, of rainbow
diversity in color. See cardinals, angels, clowns, gobies,
groupers, prawns, cod and cheeky, playful parrotfish.
Turtles observe, stealthily, and awesome orange octopuses.
Each true to nature, they navigate, plunder, toil and feed.
Oceans afar, oxygenators, champions of the sea,
whales and dolphins, all smiling restorers,
resolutely hunt with energy and surf with glee.
Thinking about below the glowing reef: the deep,
deeper black, then blacker, mysterious basement.
Even here are flicks of silver light, a wayward shark
or wraith with writhing, snake-like limbs; a briny hell,
a hopeless, stinking place of death’s decomposition.
Thinking now of promises, long-pledged: sins of scarlet
white as snow, iniquities to deepest depths. Gone, gone,
washed, forgiven. From heights of splendor came a Savior,
Jesus, Master Mariner, Son of God, sublime Fisher of Men.
New Zealand born Mary Trim, who writes as Marye Trim, has a PhD in English Literature (Loughborough, UK, 1998) and studied journalism at the University of Queensland, Australia. She has authored five published books and hundreds of inspirational articles, stories and poems and was a newspaper columnist for nine years, while also working as missionary teacher in India and Thailand. She feels called to writing ministry and sees herself as akin to those “Out of Zebulon, they who handle the pen of the writer” (Judges 5:14).
We invite you to join our community through conversation by commenting below. We ask that you engage in courteous and respectful discourse. You can view our full commenting policy by clicking here.