Lord, now that I’ve left Your ocean
I find myself struck by the notion
That salt is the thing that I lack
For which I must always go back

Our blood seems to mirror the sea
That enables complex life to be
And if I do not have enough salt
We cannot maintain this gestalt

Corruption’s endemic to life
The byproduct of endless strife
If I’m to renew what we’ve built
I must learn to make salt from silt

That’s much easier said than done
Exposing my Self to the Son
To boil away all of my lies
Collecting Your grace as it dries