Aral Sea Song

A place, where the sunken rust, and two humps a must, the end of an inland sea; One won't work, and the other wild, no place for you, nor me.

by Arley Steinhour 111011

*I received an e-mail, and sent it on,

With photos of Sunken ships and all,

Many thoughts flowed, to think upon,

As I Wait for God's Trumpet Call.

*What was once an inland sea,

Now, Looks like a Parking Lot,

Ships that plowed the water free,

Are rusted hulks, in a waterless pot.

*The only thing that sails there now,

Are four-legged, two-humped kind,

Never more, storm waves to plow,

No dead Sailors to leave behind.

*The scene no longer secret,

Aral Sea has water, never more,

Mans fresh-water needs defeat it,

Sea bereft, from shore to shore.

*The photo's offer much to view,

and to ponder about going to sea,

Not here, perhaps, but others do,

Around the resting place, a bone or three.

*There comes a day, in about a Thousand years,

Where the Oceans give up their dead,

At the time when there will be no more tears,

And God puts 'Mortality' to bed.

*No tears, nor pain, no aging blight,

With bodies young and strong,

We who through Jesus live in 'Light,'

Exist where 'Nothing' can go wrong.

AMEN