I
am an anchor.
Intentionally
built to sink,
To
ground someone else
While
they float in the sky.
Chained
to the clouds,
I
fight,
Against
the tides, against
The
wind.
The
tugging means
That
I am alive.
The
fighting provides
Me
with breath.
What
if the chain breaks,
I
fear.
I
can't lift myself,
I
know.
Worry
is real,
But
fighting is life.
***
My
Commentary:
I'm
not really sure how I thought of this poem. Largely, it's about the hurt that
comes when you choose to find your identity in your service to other people.
Helping people shouldn't become our obsession, a source of bitterness, our
identity. Without the grace of God, that's exactly what service becomes.
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