In the boat of my heart, He sleeps!
Awake on my watch, aware of my touch.
The toiling, whirling wind lends its fan,
The railing, roiling rain sheds tears.
Yet I do not fight. No flight.
His word is my bridge.
The clouds are rent,
the lights blaze,
the heavens vent,
their voices boom.
His love has stolen my doubt.
His presence propels me
His words incubate me
I still the wind
I still the lightning
I still the storm
I quell the ranting of the heavens
His word is my bridge
CHRIS N. JOHN