BACK TO MY BUILDING PLACE

I was well prepared to build my house on firm foundation rock.

I had gathered each material and every building block.

I'd seen many things, that life could be whilst imitating art.

I could cull the very best of these in each component part.

I'd explored all possibilities, and worked out all the rules,

As I stood beside the ocean, hearing bubbles from its pools.

Then a whirlpool came and beckoned me to make a reckless dive.

I was mindless of the danger that I might well not survive.

So I took a dip in carelessness, though very gently urged;

And forgot the shore's appearance, once I'd been too long submerged.

As I paddled hopes and dreams away, those expectations sank;

And the water filled my lungs with salt and seaweed as I drank.

I'd thought life down there would work out like an animated show.

But I struggled (as I faced the currents in the undertow)

To continue breathing comfortably; while cunning plans were laid

(To remove my capabilities) with Neptune's wildest maid.

When I couldn't stand it anymore, nor bear the taste of salt;

I accepted that the problem wasn't Neptune's daughter's fault,

But my own, for staying down there, once I'd seen the naughty game,

That was played with me; and so I found my way and overcame.

When I surfaced near the seaside, shaking flotsam off my chin,

I was nowhere near the place where I'd originally dived in.

There were months of rediscovery of places in between

Where I'd come up and the starting place at which I once had been.

Now I've come back to my building place, I feel the need to say:

If you didn't come to build with me, it's best you go away.

I don't want the sea beneath me, when I need to feel the floor.

So I'm building like the man in Matthew 7:24