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Over the Crest
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By Louis Gander
Other Poems by Louis Gander

Over The Crest

 

Whew!  I finally made it to the shore.  My boat- a mangled mess.
I prayed a "Thank You!" to my God as God can always bless.
 
I dropped on shore exhausted so that I could catch my breath.
and thankful, was, that I escaped a close and certain death!
 
The storm clouds hovered up above.  They seemed to follow me -
yet now I'll be among my own and very happy be.
 
I rested some and then stood up on firm and solid ground.
There was a steep and rugged hill but first, I looked around.
 
I fought that ocean mightily- then shook my angry fist.
I scoffed at those huge laughing waves- as I could not resist.
 
No longer, rations, I would need now not a bit depraved.
On solid ground, I threw them out- because my life was saved!
 
I yelled, "You'll never beat me!  Not even at high tide!
Take this... and this... and this!" I said and threw my gear aside.
 
Then quietly a wave had came and carried it all out -
but I was safely on the shore.  With that, there was no doubt.
 
So then I started climbing up the steep and rugged hill.
Though it was tough, I challenged it with persevering will.
 
I did not want to hear again- those angry waves today.
Each step I took put space between and furthered me away.
 
And finally, I neared the top.  I sat to rest a bit.
I surveyed my accomplishments.  I won, I must admit.
 
I think that God looks down on me and sees my work and smiles.
I think that's why He knows that I can handle all my trials.
 
And then I pulled myself on up a little to the west -
but oh, my eyes grew bigger as I peered over the crest.
 
The moral of this story is:  Don't be too proud because -
it humbled me to see this sight.  I, on an island, was.

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
 
Maybe the 'Garden of Eden' wasn't so bad after all...
 
-------
 
Proverbs 16:18 (KJV)

18 Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall.

 

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Submitted: Sunday, May 5, 2013

Last Updated: Monday, May 6, 2013

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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