Tuesday, March 1, 2016


As fierce waves crash over my face
I gulp cold water, I flail
on rising tide,
but failing to find air
I despair and plead,
“why do you sleep
while in the storm I die?”

Yawning, sleepy-eyed you awake
and noticing my terror, wonder
at my lack of faith.

Frankly annoyed by howling wind
and complaining shipmate,
you rebuke both
to calm.

(17 Feb 2011)