Wind on the sail.

Water over wood.

Night coming down on the sea.

Men at the ropes,

men at the oars,

waves where the floorboards should be.

The boat filled fast.

The sky turned black.

Other ships vanished in rain.

And in the stern

with His head on a pillow,

Jesus slept through the strain.

"Master,

carest Thou not

that we perish?"

He rose.

Rebuked the wind.

Peace.

Be still.

And the wind ceased.

And there was

a great calm.

The water was no longer climbing.

The danger had fallen away.

But Jesus turned toward the men

who had thought they would die that day.

Why so fearful?

Where is your faith?

No storm answered now.

Only disciples staring at one another,

trying to understand.

They had feared the sea.

Now they feared the One

the sea had obeyed.

What manner of man is this?

Wind obeys Him.

Water obeys Him.

What manner of man is this?

A great storm.

A great calm.

One voice between them.

The boat kept moving.

No one aboard

was thinking about the storm anymore.