This a rising

This a rising -
This a question of weight –

but I am wood 
sound and light 
so whilst I float

others are 
waterlogged I will 
buoy to the surface

of the waters and 
beacon through the fog 
as light flare for

all to see that can I will 
be rotating being, be 
changeling, subtle and

buoyant I will
bob on Noah's flood
with ease - it cannot

harm me I am 
dove to its waters 
and olive branch

floating.    I am 
anchor to 
worlds, the hub

of madnesses.  No 
chains I use to 
tie me down I

change my shoes 
as calmly I walk 
daily through my

breathing days my 
escapades - 
stability is

watchword to my 
windy tree stand 
and root to

whatever ground he 
hallows me.  That man 
is my stay –

rigged and lightened 
blessed by words 
promise be my own
gold mine my own 
life line my own 
water in his arms.

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