I took a one night sabbatical and drove the two hours from the farm where we live to the small town of Gimli on the shore of Lake Winnipeg, with a lovely sandy beach and a lake that goes out into the distant horizon.

Not far from mustard seed,

I wait on the beach.

Pilgrim to Gimli.

If it's nothing I seek

I think I have found it,

And a cold wind as well.

Far off the white caps

Draw near but don't tell.

All they contribute

Is dashing themselves.

Today I take communion with the world,

you broken, bruised, and lovely thing.

We are soon to part, and I will go

where my road leads, and forget what I know;

forget this wholeness, lose this peace.

But there will have been

there will have been

this little moment

when the world and I

shared communion.