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psalm_onethirtyoneFisherman's Hymn
Day comes by day on this coast
on the white wings of seawater gulls
and the white froth of seawater waves
and the white wash of this seawater church,
which we called Saint Christopher's, in hope
that one day some tall golden-bearded man with the light of the world on his back would
walk by, and bid us follow.
When we came to the shore, a little path walk from the door
he would offer us his arms
and one by one and day follows day
carry us to a new home.
Unfortunately we're still waiting, still praying
still kneeling on worn old cushions
and looking to the front of the church
where instead of a stained-glass Mary, black iron outlines and a rainbow robe,
our window looks out on the water
grey as the sunless sky.
Still, faith we have, hope we have.
After service, when we ebb from the church like tides from the moon
we sit by the water, the men with their fishing
boots over their Sunday trousers,
we drink a little coffee if someone's made some.
We let the children play with the organ, teasing, as though it were a cat, music from its
keys and pedals
and say it's because any month now we're going
to replace it.
We are so, so sure. Our women never go home and
search their souls for belief.
We drink a little coffee and the buoys dance on
the seawater waves as on the wind.
Our gulls sing shriller, our boats tilt in the
harbour, our brief journey to the mainland, if only we dared to take it,
but we sing a fisherman's hymn to God, secure.
We believe in legend, myth, and our prayerbooks;
we know that if Saint Christopher cannot find the way
Jesus himself will come to us, lightly on the water,
and lead us hand in hand
to the shore we know is there.
We see its shadow from the window of our salt-sea church, we feel its promise when we kneel before the altar
and eat our bread.
Day comes by day on this coast
on the white wings of seawater gulls
and the white froth of seawater waves
and the white wash of this seawater church,
which we called Saint Christopher's, in hope
that one day some tall golden-bearded man with the light of the world on his back would
walk by, and bid us follow.
When we came to the shore, a little path walk from the door
he would offer us his arms
and one by one and day follows day
carry us to a new home.
Unfortunately we're still waiting, still praying
still kneeling on worn old cushions
and looking to the front of the church
where instead of a stained-glass Mary, black iron outlines and a rainbow robe,
our window looks out on the water
grey as the sunless sky.
Still, faith we have, hope we have.
After service, when we ebb from the church like tides from the moon
we sit by the water, the men with their fishing
boots over their Sunday trousers,
we drink a little coffee if someone's made some.
We let the children play with the organ, teasing, as though it were a cat, music from its
keys and pedals
and say it's because any month now we're going
to replace it.
We are so, so sure. Our women never go home and
search their souls for belief.
We drink a little coffee and the buoys dance on
the seawater waves as on the wind.
Our gulls sing shriller, our boats tilt in the
harbour, our brief journey to the mainland, if only we dared to take it,
but we sing a fisherman's hymn to God, secure.
We believe in legend, myth, and our prayerbooks;
we know that if Saint Christopher cannot find the way
Jesus himself will come to us, lightly on the water,
and lead us hand in hand
to the shore we know is there.
We see its shadow from the window of our salt-sea church, we feel its promise when we kneel before the altar
and eat our bread.
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(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-08 03:23 am (UTC)I was like huh?
Then I reread it.
CONTINUE ON.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-08 03:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-08 03:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-08 03:34 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-08 03:35 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-08 03:38 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-08 04:07 am (UTC)(Look, it's apropos fish.)
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-08 04:31 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-08 04:09 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-08 04:31 am (UTC)