The sea for me is not like god.
That fool of a priest was wrong.
He stood there in our island church
sweating and green like a weed on shore
sick from his short crossing here
and said his god was like the sea.
The sea for me is not like god
the sea is god, It holds me,
feeds me, gives me life and
when it chooses it will reach
out a hand and stop my breath.
I carried his bags to the harbour
and helped him to board the boat.
“I hear you people never learn to swim,”
he said, “is it the coldness of the sea?”
I answered with a question of my own.
"When your god says your time has come
and reaches for you, will you run?"
Last edited on Mon Aug 28th, 2006 07:16 pm by zabriel