Poetry

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Where Did the Seagulls Go?

Looking at the moon through gills,
I long to touch the ground,
to dance across the flowered fields,
to hear dawn’s waking sound,
to feel the touch of another’s hand,
to be free of what keeps me bound.

Yet, here I sit, still alone
in the depths of a fish,
wondering why I was so prone
to make that foolish wish.
I would not wish, had I only known
the blazing star that captured my eyes
would cause my steely heart to roam.

Somewhere on the distant shore,
in golden grains sublime,
I’ll walk by the One I adore
and leave my heart behind,
wondering what I was waiting for,
as this musty place has taught me well,
hearts worth having return much more.
© Joyce Pool

Matthew 12:39-40 He answered, "A wicked and adulterous generation asks for a miraculous sign! But none will be given it except the sign of the prophet Jonah. For as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of a huge fish, so the Son of Man will be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth.

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