googleffffffffb25e3db2Spun off from the eddy of faith,
My bark, like a bottle enclosing an old note,
Wallows awhile in the backwater shallows,
Righting itself for what's next. 

Then, in the becalming the becoming:
An oarsman of reason evolves
Pulling stroke after logical stroke
Fearless toward the Bright-troubled sea.

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