Poem February 13, 1989 Issue

Where are the boats?

Judith Lynn Moore

Challenging times.
Progress needed.
Time to change, to move on.

I listen.
The way seems plain.
I see now how to go.

"Camp by the sea."
I obey, go on to the shore.

But wait!
There are no boats!
The Pharaoh changes heart, his army closes in.

Is this betrayal?
Didn't I listen?
Father, didn't You speak?

Perhaps I didn't hear.
Perhaps You didn't speak.
In despair I cry.

"Wherefore criest thou ...?
... Go forward!"

Go forward?
There are no boats!

"But first,
Lift up thy rod,
Stretch out thine hand."

I lift up the rod of Truth.
I stretch out the hand of man's God-given dominion.
The sea divides.

The path leads through.
Not over, not around.

Father, my eyes are fixed on You.

Judith Lynn Moore

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Healing grief about loved ones

February 13, 1989

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