Longing for my Captain’s Sea

I can barely feel I’m moving
Staring out a porthole
Longing to feel the wind on my face
The breath of God
The tug of the sail
The haul of the catch
Long for the roughness of raw hands
Hard work
My Captain’s work

For now I’m stuck in my cabin
The occasional knock
To enquire of my well-being
And invitation to the Captain’s dance
Formal dinner
Of bread and wine

Four walls surround me
I barely feel I’m moving
The intercom crackles
I sometimes catch the Captain’s voice
I talk back to him
From my little cabin
And stare longingly out to sea

The horizon barely moves
And the hope of freedom
To follow my God
On a yacht of faith
Powered by the breath of God
Travelling and growing
In the immense expanse of God
Fed by the catch of souls
Keeps me alive between dances

For now glimpses of the Captain
Capture my heart
But I want to move
He urges me to keep moving
To the far sides of the sea
Where His hand will guide me
And rest on me


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