He said, “Come.”

Heeding the simple command
of his Master’s voice
instinctively, reflexively
without thought or doubt
stepping out in faith

Being the servant, doing the impossible
walking on water, the skin,
the wet, liquid water of the sea;

maybe feeling the waves lapping
washing over his sandals
dusty no more from their journey
disciples in his ministry

Bold strides before the magic spell broke
the bubble burst in a gust of wind,
other sounds besides the Master’s voice

A human sinking
in need of saving.

January 12, 2007 20:07
Matthew 14:29a


All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,070+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.