The Storm

The boat, smooth sea, tight sail, the bow slices the blue-green Men at ease with their Leader, their Friend. Asleep, now, in the debris of broken nets and smells and scales of long-gone fish. All’s well, far from the shore, In hush, swift they go, Ventures to come through voyages’ mist. Blind, they travel, to dangers unknown. “Listen!’ says one. The distance stirs with thunderous breaths expelled in long agonizing screech. Wind-filled seas assault, the roar and waves, boiling foam, tangle cords in shears of cloth. The sea, severe, spurns order and sense. Screams mix with terrifying roar. The storm’s rages rise to meet men’s fearsome cries, “Where’s our good One who sent us to this watery hell?” Terror-filled, a soul looks down, wondering if it’s real. The sight of their Man sleeping through the horror, violence and hopeless distress. Harsh, they grab His coarse cloth to shake awake the One who must have made a horrible mistake. Eyes open, He hears their insane, hopeless pleas, “Save us, save us, or we, all, will certainly die!” Wiping the sleep and fish scales from His face, One elbow props up the perplexing sigh, He looks to them and stares and looks once more. To their worldly moment, soon lost in time, He asks, “Why do you fear?” “Why?” demands He, for answers already known. To their hearts and spirits, He speaks, “Your faith from heaven is lost, forgotten, so sadly forgotten in Me!” “Who are you men? What of the sea? No matter, sinking or sailing, Your true self, your purpose belong to Me.” “For best and greater, always in My hands, To love, to guide, eternity bring I. We’re one, forever! Yes, we’re one together, always and always, you and I.”