As flagrant ripples tore the lake
Betwixt last night and morn,
I stood before a towering bank
And watched the waves take form.
They grew with grace and power and ease,
And like the moon they towered,
And not a flicker of light could I see
Beyond their spiderweb bower.
They threatened to fall,
And I being me was quite beside myself;
But "Oh!" I said: they lingered so tall!
And you being you were poised and possessed.
You held my hand as we stood there,
Betwixt the night and the morn;
You gazed at our ominous future
And never uncertainty let soar;
I trembled and whispered a prayer—
My heart was a wreck of a score—
Then we heard the sweet music of hope flair
And awaited the wakening dawn.