Anchor

The lone figure stands against the breeze,
wondering: will he ever be as graceful as the waves?
He watches the water spill across the sand,
loose and easy, following nothing but the gravity.
The water moves with ease, but he still feels
the heavy drag of every choice he’s made.

He looks past the surface, deep into the dark,
and sees the anchor settled in the mud,
its heavy hook all covered in the rust.
He sees how it holds the world from drifting,
keeping the chaos from sliding out to sea.

In that silence, he recognizes himself.
He is the load that keeps the water smooth,
the one who holds the hook so the ship can rest—
staying unmoving, so the rest can be free.

~Janya