Five Days Of Rain (Fawcett #5) (Isaiah chapter 23; Psalm 48:7; Matthew 27:19-26)
When camping as a kid one year,
It rained a month, few days were clear;
We tented in the wilderness,
“Oak Island” gave us endless bliss.That year for us in memory,
Was best there was, for we could see
That we were top-notch in the craft
Of bushmanship – and had a blast.My dad strung tarps; kept dry the fuel;
We swam and read; made crafts with tools;
We talked and sang; and bannock made;
Stayed warm and dry as games we played.But in this story Roman men
Trudged through such forests – rain again
Was order of the day – they marched
Through sopping trails – trees overarched.Their style of fighting needed space,
But now trails were not the place
To mass their soldiers in their squares;
Instead, long straggly lines were theirs.An enemy who flattered them,
Pretending to advise as friend,
Said they’d go out and skirmish foe
And left them – sopping head to toe.Five days of rain and thunderstorms,
With leather weapons stretched, and worn
As sloppy fitting armaments,
On Legionnaires in regiments.Along these sloppy slippery trails,
The enemy harassed, impaled
The soldiers, fought them one-on-one,
Then scattered having had their fun.Three legions – twenty thousand men
Were slaughtered, or enslaved; and then
A tiny remnant reached a fort
surviving to submit report –One tenth of Roman army gone –
The German forests had undone
The strongest army in the world –
Guerrilla fighters ’round them swirled.The forest wild can be your friend,
But you must first this comprehend –
Its power is greater than we know,
And with its force we’d better go.Like shooting rapids, riding horse,
Engaging forests means of course,
We bend with forests, sway with rain,
Or we don’t live to fight again.When we think we’re much greater than
The forces which surround us, then
We’ve set ourselves to lose a fight
When “friends” and nature set us right.The ships of Tarshish met a storm,
And lost their battle – wrent and torn
To pieces in the raging sea,
Like Christ who faced his enemies –Who shouted for his tortured death;
Cried, “crucify” till Pilate left
Him in the soldiers hands to die;
An angry mob requires no, “Why?”At times the ocean lies like glass;
At times the forest’s deer will pass
In silent peace through woodland glade;
At times we trust the friends we’ve made.But that can in an instant turn –
The wolves surround; the forests burn;
Sea rises up with gale-force winds;
And friends betray – their force then wins.navigation