Poetry: Lord Of The Storms

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I wasn’t there when the great shorelines appeared,
But I know their Maker well, and His boundless love.
Tides do not move me, ’bout waves I’ve never cared,
What storms may come are the flapping wings of a dove.

The oceans at their deepest points, the unplumbed seas,
The roaring of a thousand winds, a breeze upon my face.
Breaking masts, ripping sails, gales in which men freeze,
Mercy, mercy over everything, there’s safety in this grace.

The darkest clouds across the deep, full of saltless tears,
Crooked fingers of celestial fire, point towards my ship.
But who am I to turn around, misguided by human fears?
He holds the spinning wheel and calms the heart that skips.

Master and commander, the all-light definition of safety,
It’s all right within when it’s all grey without, no doubt.
The waters are glass again, smooth sailing, here safely,
Land ahoy, led home by the peace I can’t live without.

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