I'd been washed up on foreign shores,
for several hours, breathing shallow;
My hands swollen from the heat,
salt-water and sand I surely swallowed.

With no memory of how this occurred,
I then crawled onto the barren beach;
And lay there alone just hoping for,
someone to come and bring relief.

The sun was setting in crimson and gold,
and around me gulls had taken flight;
I shivered with the cool ocean's breeze,
then softly cried well into the night.

By dawn came the heat of a simmering sun,
my clothes still damp but nearly dry;
I sat up and watched the tide roll in,
and again I heard seagulls' mournful cries.

But suddenly appeared an angelic mist,
and with tender words did comfort me;
My aching head and sunburned limbs,
were wrapped in grace and sweet company.

It was then I knew that heaven was real,
(though often entertaining cynical doubts);
Of ever looking into the face of God,
but somehow was welcomed to His Holy House.