The Whirlpool and the Light

“What are you doing, you old man

With eyes of deepest blue,

The sea is rough, the wind is high,

What do you strain to view?”

 The old man turned his eyes to me

With a deep, penetrating stare

And even before he began to speak

 I felt my soul stripped bare.

He began a story that was so strange

And yet it seemed so true

And the words he told me on that day

I now recount to you.

“When I was young I heedless plunged

Into a rip both swift and strong.

It was youth’s folly that sucked me out

Into chaos deep and long.

In that glossy, trackless deep

All seemed so bright and new

But as I gazed in wonder around

The land slid from my view.

Then black despair formed in my heart

As thick darkness gathered round

And the lapping, growling, roaring wave

Drowned out every other sound.

I struggled hard against the flow

In that surge of deepest black

Until at last I understood

There was no turning back.

As I swept along in the swirl

My eyes accustomed to the night;

I saw others drifting as if in joy,

Oblivious to their plight.

But beneath the windswept roar

I could hear a distant sound

As the tumult inexorably sank

In whirlpool underground.

Soon a huge and towering wave

Loomed out of darkest night

And as I surged up to its crest

I saw a distant light.

Into the dark and pitiless night

Poured forth my urgent cry

And as I prayed to reach that light

A plank came floating by.

It lifted me above the surge;

I held with all my strength

And as it rose and then it fell

I climbed upon its length.

And presently it calmly drifted

Into a smoother, gentler sea

Where from the savage undertow

I was at last set free.

Soon there was a scraping sound

As it came upon the land

And with grateful but exhausted heart

I fell down on the sand.

                                                                But presently I raised my head

And there beyond the beach

The light shone clear upon

A narrow path within easy reach.

On it I walked and with every step,

The blaze much brighter grew

It beckoned through lustrous light

To promises deep and true.

It called me to its light

With promises deep and true

Whispering that even if whirlpool prevailed

All could arise anew.

From a high and hilly place

I could see the rip run clear

See swimmers caught in its flow,

See the whirlpool drawing near.

I saw fellow travellers at the place

Where the land meets waterside

Throwing long ropes out into the deep

Or launching planks into the tide.

And as the safety floated by

Too few were those who grasped;

Most spurned both rope and plank

And wilfully swept past.

Sad, too sad to see them sink

In the wild and whirling foam;

Sad, too sad to hear their cries,

To hear those last deep groans.”

“Strange friend,” I cried, “If this is true

Why are you standing here?

Why are you on this windswept beach

With the storm clouds racing near?”

“I cast planks and ropes into the tide

When I hear a swimmer cry

To see if any will reach out

Before they all sweep by.

For all must into the tumult sink,

Even travellers on this road

And into its murky silent depth

Cast off their mortal load.

So with every passing day

The whirlpool is drawing near

But you can face its murky depths

Without the slightest fear.

Just carry in your heart the hope

Of those promises deep and true

Then even though whirlpool prevails

You too can arise anew.

The newness that is promised

Is totally unlike the old

But enlightened, free, undying,

Pure like burnished gold. “

With that he turned and walked away

And beckoned me to follow

But I hesitated and pondered

If his story was true or hollow.

But I do hear approaching near

That howl of swirling night

And hope to rise up on a swell

And see a distant light

Hope that all can certain be,

Hope that it will draw me near,

Hope that from that swirling pool

It will hold my head well clear,

                                                                                                                                                                          

Hope that by that light of life

I can great treasure hold,

Hope that my life can be changed

To glow like burnished gold.

Hope that all this dark, dark world

Can be consumed with light,

Hope that all those I love

Can be rescued from the night,

Hope that all that in this world is dark

Can into the whirlpool pass,

Hope that only things good and bright

Are the things that forever last.

So out I reach to grab a plank

With hope now stirring bright

And as I rise up on the swell

I glimpse that distant light.