I
At his command the sea
opens, a swirling
tempest of fire to bring them
to him, for it is time
for confrontation
as the sky drops torents and
the earth fades
darkened once more in
silence--
now it is time, as the
sea turns yellow
and the spirits return
once more
to dream
II
This is a place of paradox.
Where the willows weep and the song
abounds, surrounded enveloped by
ocean. And you and I may walk the shore,
beneath the moonlit sky--
and all is well, and I
will rest.
Trascendent he flies, creator and artist,
through his island home.
He is breathing this
earth, the oceans
he has been.
Reaching out
to the encircling abyss
he is surrounded, he sees; and
weeps.
A lover he is,
Safe like rain.
Embracing he knows,
feels her depth.
He understands.
She unfolds, glowing.
She is an ember,
and he will give her breath.
here, she knew. this was
her silence, captive in
a depth she could almost not
remember. it was
darkness, serpentine pulsing.
beneath the fragile shell of
worlds, surrounded, a
distant echo away.
you, my darling, are my
ghost,
haunting like a shadow.
Jenny Holmes
© 1998