I was baptised
seventy years ago today,
a lifespan away,
another drop in the ocean.
In troubled water
the Spirit dives deepest.
with arms banned
she calls in a wave
or a bubbled “beloved”
leaving that pocket of sound
echoing deep as the pulse
in the beating of my heart.
©David Herbert
Note: This poem was written in response to an invitation to write something on echoes.
Grits and Grains 