John Rogers wrote this poem two years ago regarding his experiences sailing his own boat as well as angst over US politics. He found our website while studying the story from John 21 about Peter and the other disciples fishing. Thank you for sharing this beautiful poem with us, John!
By John Rogers
Join me aboard this boat. We need a place to go.
Our end or our return is not for us to know.
The wind quickly carries us beyond the sight of land
Where all that may be seen, we see from where we stand
When a clear mind reflects, we see where we are
And with an open heart we know we are not far.
There are no guiding paths on this the restless sea.
We may look to heaven, but here there is no mercy.
Our voices yearn to sing for the beauty of life
Not silenced by hatred, cruelty or senseless strife.
The compass turns and turns. The Center does not hold.
We forget what we know and believe what we’re told.
Trust not the colored lights. See truth in black and white.
The earth, sun sky and sea like life are true and right.
Evil begets evil and goodness gathers good,
Even if intentions may be misunderstood.
Appearances deceive. Clear thought is pushed out.
Innocence is eclipsed, when guilt remains in doubt.
The hands of the dyer are concealed by the dyes’
With which he does his work. By this we know he lies.
Believe gives comfort as belief outweighs doubt.
No fraud last forever. All lies are found out.
As deceit, debt and lies are but brief in nature.
Truth, though eternal bust change its vesture.
With soft oblivion the snowflakes gently fall,
Destroying nothing yet covering it all.
With a sudden warm rain snow breaks in the mountains
Each brook now makes decent with cascades and fountains
And flows into the deep where evil finds its end
And from despair and hope goodness is born again..
As rain in the mountains forms a raging river
We overflow out banks with brown muddy water
But we will not settle on just the river’s bed
But on the level plain, in the cornrows instead
To replenish the earth by which we are sustained.
The course of the river will be forever changed.
When love songs lack silence, where do we find out space?
Contracts between children begin with divine grace.