We take our bearings from the stars
Our soundings from the sea
Our calculations tell us
How near how far we be
How deep the depth below us
How far our port of call
Our bearings and our soundings
Define our wherewithal
But on the ocean of this life
So many voices call
The daily clamour of the news
The rise and then the fall
The portents of great trouble
The incidental fun
Confusion of conspiracies
The everlasting hum
We need to find our bearings
We need to sound the deep
We need a calm assurance
Promises to keep
Ask and seek and knock we’re told
The counsel of the Lord
Prayer at morning and at eve
Will keep us safe on board
Brian Fahy
2 March 2023
Erris Poetry 