I see life as a voyage
And I'm a ship to sail;
To master or to be broken,
To conquer or to fail.

I started on life's journey
To places far away.
My parents, the co-pilots;
They kept my ship by day.

Early in my years,
I thought that I knew best;
To sail straight to danger.
But, they brought me home to rest.

Then, eighteen years in my voyages,
Another ship came into view.
We'd ride the waves together and
Our love would see us through.

As the years of life
Brought us maturity,
We broke the ties of home
To sail our charted sea.

Together, our two ships,
From years we seem to gain;
One goal, one sea, and
The oceans we could tame.

Soon after our great charter,
We added a sweet little boat.
What a fine little ship was he,
As we taught him how to float.

How we set sail with pride,
When our little ship set sail.
But, our hopes were dashed and died
when the little ship began to fail.

Only three short voyages
When he was called home to port.
How we tossed and leaned.
His time had been too short.

During the last voyage
That we sailed our little boat,
We took on a seasoned Sailor ~
To keep us well afloat.

He was such a dear old Salt,
Wise beyond all years,
To comfort our broken hearts
And wipe away our tears.

For a while, we just seem to drift.
In seas, we set no goals to heed.
The wise old Salt
Set out to fill our needs.

This wise old Sailor,
How He loved us so.
He gave us two new boats
To guide and keep in tow.

Between the two big ships they rode
(to learn, to sail, to grow),
With the love from us both,
They were taught what they need to know.

So, once again, we set sail.
For, now, we had a reason.
We had learned, from waters dark,
That all things have their season.

I remember how my dear old Salt
Could guide my ship so free
And how it got off course when
He left the steering up to me.

No matter where our ships would sail,
If storms and trouble came along,
That dear old Mariner would bridge the gap
And keep us growing strong.

As years and voyages pass,
The younger ships pulled free
To set their sails;
Their own horizons, now, to see.

My ship is on one last run.
Now, I sail so slow;
No longer proud upon the waters.
My battle scars do show.

Still, with the dear old Salt,
We ride the seas together, now.
I let Him do the steering.
He will see us home, some how.

I feel Him drop anchor
In a shallow near the shore;
Regretting, just a little,
I would set sail no more.

He smiles. We are safe, again.
I see lights near by.
This must be the peaceful waters
Where old ships go to die.

I feel strong arms lift me up
And carry me to rest.
I have a calm assurance, in Him.
This One who knew me best.

Here, we, now, stand
In waters crystal clear.
The dear old Salt, my Mariner,
Has guided us to here.

I smile in the knowledge
A captain near was I.
He was the One
That always got us by.

I'm just a weary ship
That has reached heavens portal
and my sweet old Mariner
has made me, now, immortal.

I shan't fear the waves of death.
For, my ship is His very own.
"Land ahead," He cries!
"I've brought my ship to home."
My Ship and the Old Salt
Copyright 1981, by Sandra Griffin
Posted here with author's permission.


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