Secure me in the harrowed stateliness of cliffs
slung in the path of shouting seas.
Lash my rope to the indignities of love
won slowly, carved from void and vice.
Compass me around with golden leaves
falling at sunset, sunset falling.
Harbour me in earth-deep beauty-
four seasons for four loves.
Reassure me with patterns of life;
and in the comforts and vistas of flourishing,
watch the river of existence erode me.

I am a fire-forged ship and my sides crack
like bones against the force of alteration.
My decks shake until they turn to salt.
It cannot hold me, the glowing world.
Dip my anchor into the earth’s throbbing core,
fling it to the edges of the widened universe-
there is no depth or width can fasten me.

The tide and the years fray my rope, untie my Gordian securities.

But cast my anchor up, out of sight,
and my pitching sides go still, my shaking decks
straighten like balanced scales; I fasten myself to the only constant:
Only the anchor caught in heaven can hold me.

//”For I, the Lord, do not change; therefore you, O sons of Jacob, are not consumed.” Malachi 3:6

anchor flip


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