The following poem is written by Michael Finch, the president of the David Horowitz Freedom Center and author of Finding Home, a book of poems. Write him at:  michael@horowitzfreedomcenter.org.

Eastern Dawn of Ship’s Passing

High above the Canton shore,
standing in profile to the wide harbour and sea beyond,
Eastern night sky from darkness sought,
to coming dawn upon gray and shrouded mist,
a stillness and pale moon settles,
all alone and in moments pause, time holds,
a passing ship of shadow, felt of chill and death,
and of mystery sails in glide, in water ripple,
of slow rhythm to the depths of fallen men to ocean’s deep.

Of shudder and fright, my eyes be still,
as of a hallow pitch, black darkening abyss,
a ship of dead and condemned souls,
slips by in frightful shadow, all stop,
in fear the coming foretold days ahead of all fallen,
all lost, the coming end of this age,
to a benighted and unknown time, to days of tribulation and fire.

May mercy be upon all of us,
Lord’s mercy on our sinful turns to the serpent’s pass and glancing away.

Forgive us.