Inspired by the exposed, volcanic coast of western Lanzarote, at La Santa, where CVM holds its annual sports outreach week every March.
Read 2 Peter 3 v 8.
But do not forget this one thing, dear friends. With the Lord a day is like a thousand years and a thousand years are like a day
Recite this out loud:
Whipped up by hurricanes, horizon-wide,
Reined in from a quarter million miles
By The Moon in her gravitation grip,
They’re seething through their night-long thunder ride
Until their reins are loosed and all’s let rip
On the rumbling, raging, roaring morning tide.
In charging ranks of teetering waterfalls,
Jade, grey-green and sapphire water walls,
From rain cloud shadow or a blue sky lick,
Racing on through sun and head-on squalls,
Trailing exhaust plumes of rainbow slick,
Their age-long-ranging wave song, “Praise the Lord”.
Sweeping on, majestic, to a line
Where red-hot streams had stopped and formed a rind
Of wicked, brooding, matt-black, lava rock,
Frozen at the place and since the time
When, halted by the waves’ explosive shock,
It turned to tortured shapes of wild design.
Ten thousand years ago, the line was made
And ever since, the daily battle’s raged
As each wave’s every rippling liquid ounce
Rears up, a water-muscled monster, caged
Until from its one, suicidal pounce
The cynic rocks with white, wave blood are sprayed.
The powers of darkness, against The Lord of all,
Another battle raging since the fall
Of angels and of humankind from good.
But victory cannot now be forestalled.
His Kingdom’s seed is sown as martyrs’ blood,
His mills grind slowly, but grind exceeding small.
As long as there’s The Moon and Earth still spins,
Tides will flow and waves, ride on the winds
For ages upon ages, bit by bit
Revealing in their battle which side wins,
As rock is pebble-pounded down to grit,
Two battles sealed, as soon as war begins.
