Anchor. by John O’Donohue

Everything
Depends
On the fall
Being utterly
Helpless
A meteor shaft
Of dead weight
Slicing through
Dreaming water
Aiming straight
At weakness
Underneath
In the stone
Destination
To vent
A wound
Desperate enough
To grip and hold
The strain
Of a pilgrim vessel
Swaying in the dark
On a surface
Where storms sleep
Lightly.

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