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Adrift!
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By Louis Gander
Other Poems by Louis Gander

ADRIFT!
 
Waves were crashing everywhere -
port, starboard, forward, aft...
My troubles kept on pouring in,
upon my humble raft.
 
Typhoon winds of pain whipped up -
first one way, then the other.
My earthly troubles slashed about -
another and another.
 
Adrift on troubled waters,
but where? I did not know!
Yet here out on the stormy seas -
there was dark death below.
 
The shark infested waters
that I remember still -
snapped temptations fangs at me
and broke my fragile will.
 
And then on top of everything,
it couldn't get much worse -
when wet, dense fog surrounded me -
my little faith, a curse.
 
I screamed from fetal position,
"Do something! Please... You must!"
My fist shook at the Heavens.
I lacked sufficient trust.
 
I threw my hands up in the air
and wondered, "What's the use?"
Now isn't this the way life goes?
The sodden ropes let loose!

The wicked waves tore at the logs.
My raft began to split.
Apart, my hopes were shattered then.
What could I do, but quit?
 
And then when giving up on life -
I saw - but could it be??
Walking troubled waters there -
My Lord had came toward me!
 
But raft continued breaking up.
The waves were just too great...
My groping arms flung out to Him -
but I was just too late...
 
With remnants of my raft adrift -
now Jesus disappeared!
Out in the fog He vaporized -
a sick mirage, I feared.
 
The gift of life is special -
but eternal life much more.
For Jesus was my sacrifice,
and who that cross was for.
 
Were hope and faith both obsolete
as waves crashed on my back?
Last remnants of my raft dispersed -
and everything went black.
 
Engulfed by churning breakers,
my feet touched solid stone...
God's precious love threw me to shore!
I never was alone!
 
I'm thankful God broke up my raft.
Could I have asked for more?
That raft was really nothing -
with Jesus on the shore!
 
©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Submitted: Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Last Updated: Wednesday, June 6, 2012

About the Poet
Born in Richland Center, Wisconsin in 1954. It's the poem's message that matters- not the poet.

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