When hate seemed near
Or adulation lay
Like heavy mist
Above the changing bay,
She sought a spot
Apart, as Jesus did, to pray.
This bare red rock
Became a holy ground
Where, pure in heart,
She heard the heavenly sound
Of angel voices near,
Above the steady pound
Of Red Rock's surf.
Here Truth stilled pain and sense.
As strong waves surged
And broke in endless patience,
Her waiting thought
Beheld omnipotence.
