Waves Of Revelation.

[ireckinso]

The thunder rolled in, the lightning flashed, the waters began to rise,

 

with prayers and pleads for life oh god, I begged you to stay my demise.

 

I kicked, I gasped and reached for air just trying to stay afloat,

 

but the waves crashed down over my head, and funneled down my throat.

 

As the world went dark, my body in pain from the expulsion of all my air,

 

I asked the lord just one more time to save me from my despair.

 

Silence again, no answer was voiced or miracle from above.

 

What did I do to deserve this fate when I have given you so much love?

 

Darkness set in, my body was calm, no beating from my heart.

 

Where is the light, where is the glory, or the cherub with the harp?

 

Should I see fire, lava beneath, is it there that I will travel?

 

Have I been bad, my faith not enough, where did it all unravel?

 

Forty years old, so many hours of praying and reading the bible.

 

Not even a word, no comfort above, no miraculous revival.

 

Now voices I hear, the pain has returned and light has reached my eyes,

 

No men with halos, nor angelic wings, I wonder who are these guys.

 

A strong smell of fish, and whiskey and beer, a laugh and a curse rang out.

 

He'll be alright, get him a drink and turn this damn ship about!

 

I reached for the man, pulled him in close and inquired "who are you?"

 

He said, "My name is Jack, your on the Sand Whore, and this here be my crew."

 

I later discovered a passing by vessel had witnessed the whole event,

 

I started to think that this was pure luck not something that was heaven sent.

 

Many days later, I returned to the ship the one that saved my ass.

 

They were neither holy, nor honest men, but rough and mean and crass.

 

The man they call Jack made fun of the event and offered me a drink.

 

His buddies all laughed pointed and joked that they should have let me sink.

 

In a calm stable voice stared in my eyes and said he could pass me by.

 

Only Christians, he said, are fickle enough to ever let me die.

 

I knew right then that I had been wrong to believe in a holy ghost.

 

In man have faith, for their hearts are big and courage can be unbound.

 

They will step up and help you survive when no evidence of god is found.

 

So goodbye oh lord, I love you no more and no longer under your thumb,

 

My only regret is for forty long years, is how could I be so dumb.

 

 

This is a poem I wrote for a friend of mine that told me his story of disillusion one night over a few beers. There is actually a lot more too the story but this explains his feelings and thoughts more than just what physically happened. His wife still argues that it was the hand of god that saved him, however his rebuttal is that there was no trace of god in these men. They were proud, hard fishermen who didn’t want the trouble of explaining why they didn’t help when it was just easier to pull him out of the ocean.