A simple call to the Communion table for Sundays centred around storms or sailing stories.
When the dark clouds thicken
and the squall rides high
and the wild winds whistle
and the storm birds cry,
we will find our peace
at a table wide
decked with risen bread
and a carmine tide
of blood-stained tears
in a silver cup
surging, spilling,
lifted up
to the Southern Cross
which points our way
on the boundless sea
to the breaking day.
