The storm

Haiku of stillness

After a long day

telling stories, parables,

Jesus needs a break.

Suggests a boat trip.

Let us cross the lake; we can

leave the crowd behind.

He slept in the stern

as winds gathered force, and waves

beat against the boat.

They woke him. Teacher,

don’t you care that we perish?

He spoke: Peace, be still!

Rebuking the wind

and commanding the sea, he

speaks, and all is calm.

Why are you afraid?

He asked them. Where is your faith?

They were filled with awe.

Who, they ask, is this?

When our boat is being swamped

he brings us order.

Speak your word of peace

into my turmoil, Jesus;

let my waves be stilled.

© Ken Rookes 2021

Even the wind and the sea

Haiku for the storm-tossed.

When evening came

they took the boat, crossed over

to the other side.

Left the crowd behind,

looking for a brief respite.

Other boats came too.

In the stern, weary,

on a cushion, tired eyes;

Jesus falls asleep.

The wind is rising,

grows into a roaring gale;

waves are crashing in.

Fearful, they wake him.

Teacher, are you not concerned?

We could all be drowned!

Rebuking the wind

and commanding wild sea

he speaks: Peace! Be Still!

The wind dies away

and the waves cease their crashing;

Why are you afraid?

Why are you afraid​?

We’ve travelled far together;

have you still no faith?

Who, they ask, is this;

the wind is at his command,

the sea obeys him.

Words for the faithful

when all seems out of control:

Be at peace! Be still!

© Ken Rookes 2018

Peace, be still!

When the boat is getting swamped

and the wind and the rain
beat against our faces and drive into our eyes;
when the news bulletins are full of fear and pain,
our leaders point their fingers
and no one takes responsibility;
when women are beaten,
children deal (or don’t) with trauma
and men set their brains aside
for the sake of chemical pleasure;
when the poor are undeserving,
the wealthy are withholding
and compassion is declared a luxury
we cannot afford;
when the weak and the vulnerable go unprotected,
their oppressors go unpunished
and we are no longer outraged by injustice;
then, Jesus,
speak again those words
you spoke to your distraught disciples,
to the out-of-control elements,
and to a planet curtained with tears:
Peace, be still!

 

© Ken Rookes 2015

If the disciples weren't scared

Peace! Be Still!

Without the benefit of radar rain mapping

or Doppler wind display,

Jesus, known among the faithful

as Son of the great Creator-Parent,

manages to deal with the storm.

First century gospel writers

had no hesitation in promoting

the miracle-working capacities of their Lord;

evidence, as it was, of his status as an equal

within the Godhead.

Hey, storm-subduing Jesus,

orderer of waves

and director of the wind,

we could use a few miracles, too!

How about sending some rain down here;

you know that we need it.

And while you’re at it

there are a few other storms

that could do with some divine intervention.

The blizzards of relationships, frozen,

bitter and unforgiven;

swirling tornados of fear and certainty

catching up all in their path;

the burning maelstroms of greed and accumulation,

always hungry for more;

cyclones of despair that build large and wild

to eliminate hope;

the thunderous lightning that deafens, blinds

and denies that which is true and good;

squalls and tempests that accuse and abuse,

causing damage difficult to repair;

and the destructive hurricanes

released by rampant egos

lusting unrelentingly for power.

Speak the word, Jesus!

© Ken Rookes 2012