In Drowning, Tenderly He Held

Crippled outer appearance
strengthened, patiently-
in the temple marked: HOLY.
For what enters shall not gratify
my wanting, but hold truth to my need.

How this world weakens
& leaves my mind spinning,
faster, like a merry go round.
I submit to voices clamoring on
about any move I make.

I found myself wrapping shaking leaf-hands around legs never mine.
Roots grew out of a name said to bring peace.

I’m weak.
I need you.
I can’t deal with this again.
Please.

Rivers came spewing free-
in this sacred place, my heart
broke & reassurances came
from rains above.

Our weaknesses are nothing more
than a platform to jump into embraces
found at water’s bottom.
.

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