Monday, 16 February 2009


What did the waters you walked on feel like?
Did it ooze round your feet like mud
On which to slither? Or was it hard and slippery
Like ice? Did its waves move under your feet?
I doubt if you knew. You were used to waves
Supporting you, literally and metaphorically,
Fisherman. But your whole attention centred
Then on the Catcher of men who would make you
A catcher of men. Impetuous as the water
You were caught by the line of love.

And you were His stone. You knew Him the Cornerstone ‑
And formed yourself on His pattern; the Foundation Stone ‑
You built upon Him; the Capstone ‑ you supported Him
‑ For without that Stone you were as weak as water
But you found in Him the Petrifying spring.

Did a sense of adventure
Move you into the water?
Or into the centurion's house?
Your invasion of Gentile land
‑ First man into the breach
When the middle wall was broken ‑
Secured the bridgehead and brought
The preciousness nearer our grasp,
The glory nearer our eyes,
Once your many errors had harnessed
Your rashness into useful action.

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I'm glad to hear how this strikes you!