Sea psalm

Sundays we congregate
at the Church of Salt
ready to worship
Ocean Mother.

Cradled in briny arms
like lovers
our mouths lapped until we gasp;
rippled into swoons.

We bow at this altar
grind knees on the seabed;
float on our backs
in the Holy water, reborn.

Swim to the buoy and back
plumbing the deeps
of our faith
through a kelpy black.