in an earlier day of youthful dreaming
i
ran down paths of self-centered plans
naïve, unchallenged vigor was sufficient
to carry me through a typical day
my inward focus drove much that defined
me
even as it cleverly cloaked its existence
more from myself
than those who walked with
me
but even they lived veiled in their own
complacency
i marched on under the banner of western
Christendom
ignoring a higher call to come and die
there was great fanfare as others
cheered me on
in some odd, heretical
way,
i was
enslaved to their clamor
throwing their drachmas at my feet
i became their champion
paid to carry on a corporate, unholy cause
shrouded in spiritual language
with the necessary credentials
the degrees
bestowed by mortal man
the crowd festively gathered on shore’s
edge
to launch me in a grandly, decorated vessel
just below the water
line - a hidden, decaying hull
chin high, chest out and a fair maiden
at my side
i hoisted anchor, waved my sword
to the accolades of a cheering throng
– and set sail
suddenly, in less than a moment
the sound of fading applause still lingering in my ear
the wind grew cruel, the storm came, the waves
rose
my soulish, self-driven visions slipped
overboard
and consciousness failed me
unaware of the passing of time
i was awakened by a gentle hand
stroking my head
i looked into the eyes of my beloved
her serenity
and love embraced me
“where are we?” i stammered
“be still.” she whispered. “we’re safe. we’re
on His ship.”
that was enough, i slept again
in the ensuing days, we held a funeral
for the dreams of a dead man
and saw for
the first time
the birthing of a future not conceived of my own design
in the aftermath of shipwreck, rescue and awakening
His healing grace revealed the impotence of my illusions
the sufficiency
of His presence
and all that i considered of value cast into the depths
to my surprise i was not
diminished but enriched
stripped of façade and false securities
i discovered a fresh route unfolding before me
that’s not completely accurate – it had
always been there
He had designed it with me in mind
before matter of any kind had
been spoken into being
and now in this moment, dressed in fresh
attire
fashioned by trans-rational hands – i set sail anew
absent of fanfare and glitz, lighter,
leaner, gentler
and
greatly humbled
having been delivered from a ruin of my
own making
and the only things lost – fool’s
gold & fading treasures
a fresh breeze, like hope, blew across
the deck
i clung gently & loosely those i held dear
resting in the knowing that someone,
other than
and greater than myself, had charted
a new course
*mark d. cooke, 4-22-1998
* it has been many years and many
voyages since i wrote these lines, and after all has passed, i can still say
with Paul, "We have this as a sure and
steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf..."
