THE SOUND OF WAVES
I have always loved water. Being near it, in it, on it. The sound of the waves; sometimes a whisper, sometimes a roar, would call to me. There was something fresh, something wild waiting, a new adventure. It felt like freedom.
These days there is more fear, more uncertainty. Sparkling waters can change to a sea of tears. Waves of pain, weariness and discomfort wash over without warning.
It takes courage now to let go, to release control, spread wide-open-aching arms and legs and float, lifted and carried by the water, weightless. How can we shift what fear infiltrated back into calm again? Can we find joy in the drifting, peace on the waves?
Can we accept what the philosopher Blaise Pascal said:
“We sail within a vast sphere, ever drifting in uncertainty, driven from end to end. When we think to attach ourselves to any point and to fasten to it, it wavers and leaves us; and if we follow it, it eludes our grasp, slips past us, and vanishes for ever. Nothing stays for us.”
We are ever drifting. Anything we try to hold to slips between our fingers. In the natural world, this is true indeed. But …
OUR HOPE IS GOD
We have a hope. There is an anchor. We have arms to lean into as we drift. In The Message version of the Bible, Hebrews 6:19 tells us:
We who have run for our very lives to God have every reason to grab the promised hope with both hands and never let go. It’s an unbreakable spiritual lifeline, reaching past all appearances right to the very presence of God where Jesus, running on ahead of us, has taken up his permanent post as high priest for us, in the order of Melchizedek.
Or to quote The Amplified version:
This hope [this confident assurance] we have as an anchor of the soul [it cannot slip and it cannot break down under whatever pressure bears upon it]—a safe and steadfast hope that enters within the veil [of the heavenly temple, that most Holy Place in which the very presence of God dwells]
This month I’m giving you two choices to prompt your words: ADRIFT or ANCHOR.
You can choose one prompt, or both, writing one poem or two or blending two into one as I did in the poem that follows. Don’t rush the process, allow the words like waves to wash over you, finding an order of their own. Then we invite you to share them with us. Just complete the quick Release Form and submit your poem to: firstname.lastname@example.org.
Here are some questions to begin a creative drift in your mind:
- Write down any words that come to mind as you ponder the words adrift and anchor.
- What does drifting feel like? Free or frightening?
- Imagine opening up every clenched part of your body.
- How would you describe the feeling of being carried?
- Do you have something that anchors you? What does it look like? Sound like? Feel like?
- What color is fear? What color is safety?
so much time adrift
leaves my heart breathless
in the least predictable of winds
sails shape shifting
losing ground, dizzy
I have an anchor
held close and tight
my rock, strength
all that is solid and safe
but useless in my hand
I must let it go, release
the full weight of it
so it may sink deep and hold
in all that is true
all that Is You
You can view our Submission Guidelines here. When submitting a poem, please complete the release form on our Permissions page. Email your submission including a headshot, brief bio, and links to your website, social media, and any book titles you’ve authored as applicable to email@example.com.
We look forward to reading your poems!
More Poetry Prompts
I don’t think I am alone in this fight to shake off numbness and reach for joy. And I don't want to become comfortable with this frozen feeling.
Abigail Carroll said these are poems of lament. In writing these “Make Me” poems, she began to lean into metaphor, changing not only how she wrote but also how she prayed.
Chronic Joy® Contributing Writer
Karin is a handmaiden of the Lord, saved by grace, a worshiper, a poet, a broken heart, a lover of words, hungry for truth, amazed by love, on the Potter's wheel His work in progress. After five years in Africa, Karin and her beloved husband of twenty years, Rick, are back in rural Canada where chronic pain drives her to the feet of Jesus. She is powered by prayer, love, and many cups of strong coffee. She is the author of From Ashes to Glory (A Psalm a Day).
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