Hope is Believing the River Flows For Me Too

ANCHORED

Anchored in a flowing river,
Watching water rushing by,
Safely floating, gently rocking,
Staring at the trees and sky.

Other boats speed swiftly past me.
Laughing travelers wave and shout.
I wish that I could join the party,
Lift my anchor, pull it out.

Firmly tethered far below me,
Buried deep in river’s silt,
Ancient iron fused with rock,
Ancestral shame, a melded guilt

Prevents escape. I can’t release it.
Fated to this life, I yield.
Let others fly upon these waters,
Past-life wounds already healed.

Born too late and aging quickly,
Caught in a collective dream,
Confused by life’s conflicting currents,
Nothing’s ever what it seems.

Wishing I could change my future,
Daring to believe there’s time.
I wish someone would notice me and
Pull their boat alongside mine.

Together we might shift this anchor,
Lift the weight that holds me here.
Prove the river flows for all.
It’s safe to go. I needn’t fear.

No one stops. It’s up to me to
Cut through choices family made.
Generations wove this rope, but
I alone must wield the blade.

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