Who’s At The Helm? Poem by ArmourQuill Hunter

Our gallant trim a gilded vessel goes, on the prow at the helm.
The whirlwind sways each vessel guided from a higher realm.
Anyone can hold their ship’s rudder when the sea is at rest.
In times of turbulence don’t we cry- to God against the crest?

“S.O.S.” we‘ll cry: “please Lord come and take the wheel~! ”
We know Christ walked on water, the winds he did seal.
Save me from this road I’m on, as You calmed the sea...
Father, take it, take it ALL, Lord; hear my desperate plea!

For the ship that’ll not obey the helm will soon obey the rocks.
If not for Heaven’s hand on the wheel, I’d lose more than socks.
Even great ships are driven of fierce winds, and some split ajar.
Look, look-, look to the Rainbow and our 'Maker from afar.'