Muck

Ode to the Stagnant Waters 

by Nathan Titchenal 

Waters abide by nature alone 
Unaffected by civilization’s wood and stone. 
Life held in its barren form, 
A thing to be visited in seasons of warmth. 

Meaning held to be compared
By feelings and actions not many can spare,
But the stagnant waters that glow with life;
Pools amidst the frontage of strife, 
Of glamorous figures who have hidden their ways, 
Hidden their feelings over the span of days, 
Can be found even in the worst of life’s storms 
In the worst of our troubles, our doubts reformed. 

Oh, the stagnant pools, 
Your wisdom surpasses the rush of fools. 
From the knowledge you hold of life and its workings,
Of death and its doings,
You must recognize by now,
As every knee must bow,
We are never alone
For we cannot possibly survive in this broken world
On our own.

Jesus wallows in our muck.

 This poem was written to portrait the morality, frailty, monotony, insignificance (etc.) of the human race. If you can picture a pool of stagnant water, never having been seen nor touched by man, lying dormant in some secluded forest, then you might consider how it would practically feel it's own insubordination and helplessness to be some physical thing. The application of this kind of position in the chain of life is to say that, 1) All humans beneath God cannot possibly be or become more or less equal to this analogical stagnant pool, and 2) At such a level of depravity, we should not be able to help but see the significance of a bondage with the only being who could possibly fulfill our needs.

That being, that figure, is Jesus Christ. Remember him when you begin to feel like a mucky pool of water again.