The billowing waves of an angry sea and the wind swept flow of the tide, Was the weather in which it seemed my Life I'd chosen within to reside. The stormy past of my youth was spent in chasing the pleasures of Life. I'd salvaged not money nor fame nor power, nor family or children or wife. And now on this night - of - all - nights came to be - tossed by the waves of an angry sea - A vessel blown hither and 'yon by the gales, and the Captain - none other than me. Yes, the Captain indeed was none other than me, in a stupor of drunkenness - hopelessly: While the crew in dismay found no course they could lay, and the ship in the storm drifted aimlessly. I called for the mate, navigation to plot, and was told he was tossed by the waves and was lost, Navigation and plot was a thing I'd done not during all of the oceans I'd crossed! Where could I find one who'd shoot the star' , to know our position, perhaps where we are? For days now engulfed by the storm we were forced many miles from our course. But how far? Then came a calm voice and there strangely appeared, a man as from nowhere. . . . . .standing quite near. He said navigation He surely could do, If I would ask - He would steer us so true. Then looking so deep in His eyes I perceived, that God somehow sent Him for me to receive. And bending one knee as if praying I asked, the task of navigation be relieved. The crew sensed His presence, His strength, and His power, and rallied, attending Him hour - after - hour. He plotted the course as if already known, and wild waves and winds seem to cower. He hauled in the 'main sail ', the 'jib' set just right and spoke calming words through the perilous plight. He steered hard the 'rudder' and clung to the 'wheel' 'til soon we survived through the night. As dawn broke the winds and the wild waves still stayed, but somehow my spirits were no more dismayed. I looked at the book on my bed where it layed - 'Twas the Scriptures! - All night I had prayed! I went to the helm and I stood there with Him as He guided 'My Ship' through the waters so grim: My soul spoke these words, and somehow He heard, "What a Savior to me You have been"! I spoke with Him long through the days ahead and His words somehow deep in my soul were fed. And I know on that night through that perilous plight were it not . . . . for the navigator. . . .I'd be dead! Now it's been many years since that 'night - of - nights came, and the navigator of ' My Ship ' is still the same. And the billowing waves and Life's angry seas - Together . . . . . . .we've managed to tame. We've sailed many gales, through tempests and storms; through miles of Life's oceans 'round the poles and the horn, But with Him by my side it's as though I reside in a Life that is somehow reborn. 'The Sea' is so treacherous and Life is so frail but a whale of a navigator is He; Others have asked of His name and His past and I told them - their navigator He'll be - Now if He can fetch such a wretch as like me from out of the waves of 'Life's angry sea' He'll do just the same . . . . If you'll only claim "The Navigator" . . . . . . ..such is He! So don't go afloat . . . . in Life's perilous boat, through the billowing waves and the angry seas, Unless just as I - on some night by - and - by, you give Him . . .full control . . .on bended knees! Original poem by Ron Baron "Words are the tools men use, to sketch dim glimpses of their souls"
Reason for writing:
Bio: I have been writing for a few years and my
collection of poems fits several catagories.
(mostly Religious Rhyme) I have only recently seriously
considered pursuing publication. I am a native Texan
with several grown children, having had many varied careers
in my past. I'm presently enjoying the freedom and the
time retirement allows for writing. Poetry has become my
all consuming passion. My only aspiration is to share the
thoughts and testimonies such as this, to further the Lord's
Kingdom.
Respectfully, Ron Baron
Birth sign: Not entered
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