Peter on the Waves

Photo by Stormseeker 

A Poem by Marcus Veyette

Oh, to tiptoe on the tide is like the way

you feel on a rope bridge; water has slack

of massive, plunging give. The night breeze sways

little ripples unpredictably. I packed

faith with me, in my captain of sky and sea.

“Be of good cheer.” But, the waters were black.

Not just that, the wind howled and made me

afraid. I capsized as the waves drew back.

It was cold and ankle deep, and now the foam

is at my knees: hips sinking: arms flailing.

I start bobbing. Lord save me. I’m alone

reaching for air. Like winds, I’m wailing

out Save my soul, Please! doubting again and

again: drowning until I caught his hand.

Marcus Veyette is a Certified Sommelier, an actor, and an aspiring poet. He completed his

Bachelors of Arts in Creative Writing. Much of his time has been spent learning how to adapt

sonnet and old poetic forms with contemporary American-English expressions. “Peter on the

Waves” is his first published work, and explores the motif of holding to faith in the midst of

doubt.