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The Skiff

The Skiff

(Advent, anytime)

 

It’s the twentieth

Now we count for real

 

Will we have peace—

Will Bethlehem be accessible

This year

 

Peace in the heart

Might be all that’s left

Sometimes it must feel that way

And, honestly, it’s a good place

To start

 

Accent on the time

To find the quiet

Or stop the world another way

Pause it now and then

 

Five days

For remembrance

Make it our own liturgy of

Supplication

Over whatever waters we might have,

Still or stormy

 

Reaching for, and as,

A beacon through the mist

That’s joy

 

C L Couch

 

 

By laszlo-photo – https://www.flickr.com/photos/laszlo-photo/110887318/, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5948809

In the early morning, a fishing skiff remains docked on the waters of Santa Marta Bai near Soto, Curacao (Netherland Antilles).

 

Canciónes de Oro

Canciónes de Oro

 

How does the song

Go,

 

My boat is so small,

And your ocean is

So big

 

(Translated)

 

Extraordinary image

Of a strenuous

Hope for

 

Amazing grace

 

Cantan ustedes,

Queridos

 

Please sing, my loved

Ones

Midst

Midst

There is no storm just now;
Yet I am between two poles
And, like the compass magnet,
Cannot find a true direction

In the middle and cut off, I
Drift alone—the sun is bright
Though I feel no thirst, no
Longer any hunger, either

I am alone—I don’t know
What happened to the crew—
No storm now and yet I feel
I am only between one

Tempest and another, that
One will come to overturn my
My unsteady craft; so how
Does the Latino saying go?

Your sea is so great, and my
Boat is so small—for the time,
And but for swelling waves,
There is no current bearing

Me away: yet I believe I am
In the midst of all, awaiting
What happens, what catches—
Compelling, never planned

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