past the rib cage (beyond the hands and the feet)

there is a cross inside me

made of wood and

strong as steel for a ship
with barnacles at the base
showing use and age.

but i am young
so it is too –

tho i am young
it is worn from heavy use
abuse and neglect.

yet it is strong
dug deep down in my chest
standing straight and

its age tells me to believe
for it is a source older than the
and the white cloth
which blows from base
to top
tells me inside
is my soul preparing to
for the day i shall be free.

until that day

this cross within
will be my ship
willing and able to cross all

sailing me home and
anchoring my heart
when storms flood the

there is a cross
within me

and Lord I rest with you there.


About Crazy Irishman

Touted as a working man's poet, Martin Durkin has been writing professionally for the last 12 years. He has appeared in over twenty anthologies across North America, including, "And left a place to stand on", a collection of poems and essays about the late great Al Purdy. Durkin has also published two collections of poetry, "Hypnotic Childhood", and "The Sound of Quish". Over the past 4 years, Durkin has been on hiatus for the most part but has recently come back to the poetry scene creating a poetry site called, where in the past year he has written over 100 poems and created a cross over page on where he gives a story behind each of the pieces written. View all posts by Crazy Irishman

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