Saturday 16 June 2012

(An observation, not a post, not poetry, not gospel.)

I am the sea.

Ben is the mountain. Steadfast, forged out of rock. Broken faces, landslides, avalanches burying us. But still I climb. I have conquered this mountain, eroding his edges, smoothing his sharpness, throwing myself against him and still he stands, with me in his shadow.

Lochlan is a boat, tossed upon my waves, anchored and within sight of shore but content to come and go, always within reach. I hold him in my depths, I cradle him. He rises and falls by my tides and still he floats, buoyed by the hope of a horizon that never ends.

Caleb is the moon, pulling me closer, pushing me away. Dark and high in the night sky, he casts a pale cold light upon my surface and I am captive to his plans. He disappears in daylight and come out at night and I am powerless against his whims. He is constant, forever and apart.