Streams of Comfort

This poem contemplates both the chaos and hope water brings through the whimsical dialogue of two friends. I pray that you will be reminded of the hope we have in Christ as you think about water.

“Mermaids are real,” my friend insists,
As we lay down in the soft green grass,
Gazing up into the bright blue sky.
“It’s just that they exist in the sea above us, not in the deep waters here below,”
“Are you referring to the sky?” I inquire with skepticism in my voice,
The clouds beginning to look suspiciously like seafoam.
“I have not once seen a human with the tail of a fish in the sky,” I state,
And then pause for a moment in thought,
“Well maybe a cloud looked like one once,” I laugh.
My friend turns her head towards me and lets out a sigh,
“Mermaids are not humans with fish tails, that is simply folklore.” she replies,
“If not, then what are they?” I inquire,
Also turning my head towards hers.
“Mermaids are water,” she says,
“Water?” I repeat incredulously,
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” I say furrowing my eyebrows.
“Water can be shaped into anything,” she says with a smile,
“And mermaids are fantasies we shape, in a sea that is as unreachable as the one above us.”
“I see,” I murmur,
And gaze back up at the sky,
Thinking through what she means,
What water is, and what it maybe could be.
And after a little while I ask softly,
“Will mermaids always be fantasies; will they always be unreachable?”
“Is all there is for us the troubled sea here below?”
The grass rustles as she lifts herself up on her elbow to get a better look at me.
“One day, God will still the waters here below until they become as the waters above,”
She says with strong conviction,
Turning my head to meet her gaze I say,
“I think what you’re actually saying is that earth will be as heaven, right?”
She just smiles in response as she lays back down on the grass.
“Will there be mermaids then?” I ask,
“When heaven and earth are united as one?”
“No,” she responds, “We won’t need them anymore”.
And then it was my turn to smile.