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