Change Course

A poem written before the 2012 election with the obvious inference that the current course our nation was on was heading straight into the dark and consuming vortex of deep; to have the bones of this once-great nation lay along side those of Atlantis, Tyre, and yes, Sodom and Gomorrah. And considering the other candidate, we’d have already spilled 4 months of blood onto the Syrian soil and be hearing neocons shout, “if yer not with us yer with the terrorist!” – Keith K. 1/4/12

Change Course Graphic

Change Course

A mighty sea, on right and left, or starboard-port you see
the waves not high, the wind just swift, seems satisfactory.
But straight ahead, the sky is dark, and from the sky are bolts
The clouds are turning darker still, the horizon terror coats.

The barque is tossed, the wind is sharp, the sea turns to a stew.
The hands take hold, the feet are braced, by passengers and crew.
Why fret this course, we’ve chosen here, we sail complacently,
Why question now, our past provides, we’ll arrive assuredly.

Ah yes! for sure, a sigh is let, from all on manifest,
A glance connects the passengers and blindly they do jest.
But in the whistling stormy wind and cracking of the sails,
A sound is heard that doesn’t seem to fit amidst the gale.

Oh, no, It’s surely not a cry from passenger or crew,
That yelled aloud, we’ve lost a man, oh no, it can’t be true.
Hey, what about, the course we’re on, begins an inquiry.
This hasn’t happened, all the times, we’ve sailed formerly.

I know, I see, it’s plain as day, look starboard and to port,
But this self-destructing course we’re on, the captain won’t abort.
We need a plan, to change this course, not question who it is,
It’s not so difficult to choose, a course that is not his.

Hey, listen up, we’re changing course, I’ve told my kids along,
That one must fight for what is right, this course is surely wrong.
We’ve been asleep, and I for one, have sores and sins and whelps,
But on my knees, He spoke to me; the weak and lame He helps.

So here’s the plan, we’re taking hold, the bridge that holds the wheel,
And going stern to shove aside the rudder, that’s the deal.
Now understand, it’s just a start, a long way from home are we.
But certainly, and obviously, we choose a safer sea.

And then our course, we’ll carefully plot, with our God in mind.
And plead with Him, leave all our sin, buried ‘neath the sea behind.
This is our hope, to add some years, and live in liberty.
Our other choice, is stay this course, all buried here at sea.

By Keith Kampschaefer – 8/22/2012

Big Sailing Ship

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