First Candle

A sonnet

The justice of the Lord is like the sea,
As mighty deeps, where rushing waters flow. 
His mighty judgment thunders suddenly 
Like breakers rolling over those below. 
How else are deeping valleys to be filled? 
And otherwise, will mountains be made plain? 
Thus straightened are the crooked ways men build
So that all flesh may sing the glad refrain: 
Lord, many waters cannot quench Your love. 
Nay, in the waves deep’s calling unto deep. 
Though tempests roar on earth from heav’n above
We on Your rock our watch in hope will keep
          Since You will strengthen us. We see Your light. 
          We know that one day all shall be made right.