To gather gopher wood and build the boat,
and leave behind those who cannot see the rain?
To begin anew upon the waters,
though the cries of the drowning echo in my ears?
Or to remain among them,
and turn their eyes to the darkening skies above?
To show them they are hanging upside down,
so they might save themselves before the water arrives?
Is it mercy to leave and live?
Or mercy to stay and try?
And if I stay,
will I save them, or be swept under with them?
Which is the greater faith:
to flee the rising waters,
or to stand in the storm and call them home?
