Sometimes, Tied to the Mast

rainy windshield

Wrap the bitter and biting strands one more time ‘round
your battered and bloody hands –
one more numbing time ‘round,

for the shore’s within sounding, if not yet sighting
within this foggy night,
and Jesus is calling.

Dawn is coming.

Do not go down before its seeking rays reach you –
do not go under, for the tide is bringing you in.

Your lips are salted and cracked, but

broken and weaving, let the creaking bonds hold you,
let them hold you.

The tide is bringing you in.

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