Crossing the Strait of Georgia

Crossing the Strait of Georgia on the Queen of Coquitlum,
Vancouver Island rising into the deepening colours,
passing through all the stages of peach, coral, then purple,
the water fathering out from the prow
to unsettle, minutes later, the occasional sail boat or fishing boat
bearing for Departure Bay,

and standing on the top deck where the wind is stiff,
I lean in and hang on to the rail
and think about one near my heart
who has endured, already,
storms enough,

and I think of Christ on the waves
who would have walked right past that pitching reeling boat,
but the story has the disciples calling out
and he stops, climbs in,
and everything calms down.

Now the stewards arrive and put covers on the windows
and the ferry will dock for the night,
and we will walk down the gangway to the parking lot,

and I will go on calling to my children
the only thing I know
(and hope to God is true): “It’s the storms
that make you buoyant. It’s the storms
that hold you up.”