The Youth Group Canoeing Trip Unintentionally Promotes An Eternal Perspective

17 Sep

By afternoon, the group stopped to make camp
and Paul remained on shore to help as I waded in
up to my neck, longing to make the smooth strokes
of farm boys and big kids who crossed over
talking and laughing as they went.
If he had foreknown the pending doom
of a youth group friend, he might have chosen
to stay home, but he hadn’t, and would see
my head slip under slow brown water,
hear the yell and splutter of the skinny kid
who didn’t really swim. 

I couldn’t fathom my life closing,
but it began, and Paul responded
like a father to keep me from my end. 
By second gasp, he shoved out a canoe,
then came swimming like a man, 
the calm in his voice a buoy.
And still, I tried to kill him. 
We were saved from my demand to live
only when our feet found sand.
          Later, at the fire with the others, Paul’s face said,
          Don’t think you’re the only one returning from the dead.

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