I’ve been twisted and torn by the sands of time
and by the winds that have blown them.
I’ve been tested “Battle-ready” by the drought of years
and by the rains, that withheld, made them.
Through floods I have stood and winters long -
many a spring have I beheld,
yet nary a regret do I behold nor grudge do I besiege
for I am the sapling grown from this land into this mighty tree.
I am the tree that gave its wood
to form the planks of this vessel true
that has sailed the seas both high and low
and under an endless sky of blue
to deliver a cargo of cargo of cargo -
a people of people to people -
of sons and daughters of mothers and fathers
and of mothers and fathers of sons and daughters.
Time will pass into more time and sons will turn into fathers.
Fathers in turn will father more sons whose sons turn into fathers.
Mothers, likewise, will have their daughters, and they will turn into mothers,
whose daughters’ daughters will turn into mothers and mother mothers as well.
Smooth are the rails that line this ship’s deck, keeping her passengers safe.
Many generations have crossed this sea to brave a new land and time.
Many have returned with riches galore to spawn new blood to sail -
to board this ship, to pace her decks, and run hands along its rail.
This vessel is true - her keel set straight - her ballast stones are in place.
She has a Captain of captains for sure
and a crew set at work about her.
And so long as they but muster true, serving both ship and sail,
threatening not against their own Captain with that of their own will,
the cargo - the cargo - the precious cargo will, across the sea, fare,
and will disembark at their destination - at their port of call -
to continue the journey - their life’s adventure - the reason for us all.
But lest ye worry with grumble or whine or with ill-word spoke against any,
fanning the flames of the fires hell with an act we now call mutiny,
stirring the crew into discontent and plotting against their Captain,
planning the take-over of this ship, her crew, and her dear cargo
with lusts and greed and personal gain as the motive behind their movement,
caring not for the Captain, nor for His plans, which is most surely this:
the conveyance of that which is held within the hold of this vessel true -
the seed of a race so frailly held afloat on an ocean of blue.
April 4, 2009