A Christian Theology of Foundering

 i’ve heard the tale since before i could stand

of noah and the ark that he built with his hands

from the moment the flood came and God closed the door

the lord did defend him from floodwater’s roar

But not so for me, who before setting sail

had spent the last two years chained up in a jail

but not so for us, this ship’s sorry lot

we should have remained at the Fair Haven docks

I’ve heard the tale since before I could walk

of jonah who ran and refused the lord’s call

and so the storm found him and shook him and raged

he gave himself up and was buried in the waves

But the storm that now batters us seeks not a sinner

it’s simply the overlord of the sea’s winter

and though I should pray for the lord’s swift deliverance

the men start to jettison freight and equipment

i’ve heard the tale, like a voice on the wind

of the man who commanded the storm with his lips

but peace is not granted us, nor stillness or calm

the storm's power blackens out even the dawn

as i lay sleeping i saw a strange sight

an angel before me, the cabin alight

the ship shall be splintered, the messenger spoke

but no soul shall perish, and then I awoke

after days of hard labor with no food or rest

we ate our last meal and we dumped all the rest

the sounding was shallow, so the anchors we dropped

and tried to catch up on the sleep we had lost

early the next day, a dim light was seen

and land that we knew not but probably could reach

so we opened the scraps of our sails for the bay

and ran her aground on a reef in the clay

now the soldiers debated what steps they would take

to ensure that the prisoners would not escape

i begged the commander, to give us a chance

and somehow convinced him to let us reach land

and then the great breaker rolled over the reef

and sent us all tumbling down into the sea

i clung to a piece of the deckhouses’s frame

and kicked with the tide to the beach in the rain

onshore we found natives kindling a fire

we all gathered round it and so our clothes would dry

as the fire was waning i fetched some more sticks

not seeing the viper that was hiding within

as i was carrying the wood towards the beach

the serpent awoke and he bared his white teeth

he coiled and bit me and latched on my hand

the natives all whispered i must’ve been damned

now i’ve heard the tale, since I was born

about the snake in the garden, and death and the thorns

and how it was promised his head would be crushed

i don’t think i’ve ever wanted something so much

i don’t think i’ve ever wanted something so much