Winking and fading as we gaze
The panic grows within us
As the barque battles the storm.
At sea, the radar lapses into silence
Rocks undetected and unknown lurk unexpectedly.
The damaged ship,
Already far off course
Cannot direct its path,
Trying to use the charts
Which sailors centuries ago
Fashioned from their imagined world
The aged captain
Prepares to greet another clone
While all the crew
Can only pray for light and landfall.
At home, their family and friends
Catch ragged breaths in fear and prayer,
Longing in vain to reach the boat
And steer it safely into port.
But they can lift their hands to take the sacrament
Which makes them part of one coming from heaven
Who walks on water, and who stills the storm.