On a Sunday morning I was doing the stingray shuffle 

My Golden retriever had wanted to stay in bed to cuddle 

But I pried him out 

Once we got to the beach, he didn’t pout 

The bay water was shallow and clear

I saw a few crabs scurry and I felt a little bit of fear

In my bare feet 

And there were schools of fish going by, I presumed looking for something to eat 

Why wade out into the water, some might wonder 

But somewhere in every east coast girl and Golden retriever there is a hunger 

And it’s not for the mansions that line the beach 

Or even for a whiff of the seaweed

But rather for the glistening sea, its creatures, and its peace 

So on Sunday mornings we head to the shore 

I’ve found in my older age that it offers me more – than a sermon inside on an uncomfortable seat 

The dunes and the seagulls outcompete 

So that glistening water draws us 

More than coffee even on a Sunday morning

We do the stingray shuffle and go out exploring 

Past where our feet can’t touch 

(They’re actually non-stinging skates on the bottom, but close enough)

And to float next to a chucked tennis ball with my pup and his four paws 

To be close to the dolphin fins 

Submerged, immersed 

Out in the bay is where my doubt ends 

Among all the creatures and the sun and the sky 

When I can’t see the bottom

I’m mesmerized 

And a little taste of heaven on Earth I glance

As I tread water alongside my pup 

And do the Sunday morning stingray-skate shuffle 

It’s enough

My Sunday morning confession, my worship dance