A Metaphor About Grace

My ship sets sail by the Son's
Cheerful countenance upon the stormy waters
Which draw forth winds.
If I walk upon the seas, I shall fall
And thereby be plucked up out of them by Him.
My tongue a rutter for the carriage;
Curse for curse, blessing for blessing---
There is no supernatural agency behind words
Not ordained by God,
But affect weighs heavy upon our hearts and a hearer's soul---
Warnings for repentance, and not for our own silly vanities.
Unchain the captive with your words and deeds,
And all will be well; for words and deed
Proceed from hope and faith; from our desire to also bear good fruit
And only such hope can; which said desire springs forth the pomegranates' berry.
When I fall shipwreck, I trust in He
Who calms the seas, and brings the fish.
When bitterness envenomates me
I think upon my LORD and His cross.
When sin and temptation disturb my mind, and come nigh
I think upon Him...
For by Hope of Salvation and nothing else
Are we called to in this life...
For by hope, at our failings
We look upon the Bronze Serpent
And are healed; our sins forgotten
And our righteousness remembered by God for eternity.
Not to become Him,
But to be made like Him;
He Who is the Only Begotten
And the Firstborn of All Creation...
We, simple heirs by adoption and right.