I live by a lake
  that knows how to wait,
   it does not worry.

The rains always come, more or less,
  And for longer than I can imagine
   the lake is ever renewed.

Its surface rises, then falls, 
  there is always more than enough
   to reflect the sunrise colors.

Its shoreline shrinks, then swells,
  no matter, the mallards hatch their eggs
   and the tules grow tall and thick.

Its bed receives the dust of spent things
  Yet it slowly, mysteriously sinks
   And the lake abides through the ages.

~~~

I live by a lake
  that with grace-like welcome
   receives all drawn to it.

It encourages the wind
  to dance on its surface
   breezes and gales raise ripples and whitecaps.

It embraces the sun
  which nurture green aquatic life
   and then warms the chilly nights.
It provides an intimate home
  for the ancient hitch and mighty bass,
   for thrashing carp and fishy silversides.

It beckons hungry birds,
  gulping pelicans, nibbling mudhuns,
   to fill their bellies and feed their young.

It gives habitat ofr wild animals, 
  the swimming otters, turtles, and snakes,
   the thirsty deer, foxes, and cougars.

~~~

I live by a lake,
  and now the lake lives in me,
   ever teaching me its ways.

How to sit still at times
  to reflect the beauty of the world
   and the cosmos beyond.

How to wait for the ancient cycles,
  the rhythms of nature,
   to renew and recreate.

How to trust the universe
  in times of need or plenty,
   in storm or calm of life.

How to be gracious and welcoming,
  giving what I can to whom I can,
   when I can, however I can.

How to be nurtured as I nurture, 
  to embrace as I am embraced,
   to live and let live.

I live on a lake,
  it is the world to me,
   a gift from the heart of God.

-- Eucalyptus, 2016

Sermon by Denise Rushing
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