Unmoored
from my self
I drift in a sea of distraction
that draws the I apart
and distorts my thoughts.
Lines of mind reach out, unwind
but find no purchase.
I need an anchor
an axis to spin from
to unfurl threads of thought
to swirl and whirl as they will –
wild and unbreakable –
windblown and sea-changed.
Until I haul them back
to my self
on ropes strong with solitude
to be calm and become
my own anchor.
(May 2017)
 |
| Brú na Bóinne, Newgrange, by Barbara y Eugenia (Source: Wikimedia) |
i like this, both the metaphor and the punning title. sometimes i feel like an anchorite nun in a cell myself; yet my solitude keeps me right, it is my anchor!
ReplyDeleteThank you. I really enjoyed playing with the word, and I hope to take my own advice!
Delete