Epektasis

The waters bow.
They have been waiting
since the first command
that separated them from the light.

They remember the Spirit
moving over them
when they were still chaos—
and now they tremble,
ready to receive Him again.

The Spirit hovers—
not seen,
but felt
like incense lingering
after prayer,
like breath suspended
between Amen and silence.

Nothing yet breaks open.
Everything listens.

We stand on the shore
with empty hands,
learning that readiness
is itself a gift.

Every ripple bears a promise.
Every reflection practices glory.
The current hums a name
it will soon be allowed to speak.

Tomorrow
Light will enter water.
Water will learn fire.
Heaven will confess what earth receives.

The Trinity will reveal itself
not in force
but in obedience—
and the world, baptized again,
will remember
why it was made.