tarshish

a poem

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tarshish

the lost familiarity of my calling
beckons to my conscience
running waves about me in my fear,
what prayers are prayed they are not
my own—my mates call of their own
hubris before the forces that be,
—what waits the wily waves?
what impossibility waits the Divine from
walling off this corner of the cosmos
to forget the ancient covenant with Noe?—
mine own prayers are not far from me;
their worn grooves glide me through
repetitions formed from previous pious devotion
recommending its kneeling posture
due reverence to show,
but what words are these? hardly prayers,
hardly kneeling at all for that matter!
the ship yaws, throwing all prostrate and
throwing all lips to cradle the vain turns
of tongue that are never called in the
ordinary otherwise, and what wind in me
wags the lifeless rote oration I am pressed to speak?

    will God be mocked?

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Artist’s Statement

As the title hopefully suggests, this poem is an invitation to consider (and reconsider) the Book of Jonah with its archetypal portrayal of an individual running from his calling.

The poem is sprinkled throughout with questions and also ends with a pressing question. This is a tribute to the pattern of the book itself, which contains several questions and ends with a pressing—though unanswered—question.

If nothing else, I hope that this poem inspires you to read (and reread) the book of Jonah. I also pray you and I find the courage to seek after and consider the vocation of our lives again. What might we cease running from if our hearts were revived?

And so I pray: Father, call to our hearts again with the graciousness of the cross of Christ. Grant our minds the wisdom to listen to your call. Grant our bodies the strength to rise to your call. And, grant our souls the humility to run to your call. Amen.