Poor Noah,
the neighbours wondering why his mind had crashed,
that boatbuilding in the desert
– all that learning,
and cajoling his family to belief
(or just scaring them into it with wicked tantrums).
What does a sand dweller know about boats?
Did he really think there would be a flood?
Or did he rise from his bed
too early and often,
compelled to work on this project
from a place of surrendered and purposeless drive?
Was he relaxed in his response to the muse?
A happy trust? Detached from outcomes?
Or did he move in desperate caring
with a terrible vision making constant noise?
Was he surprised by what took shape?