Reflective
Sometimes I am
An Ocean –
Deep and dark
With foaming wave
And roaring spume
The Spirit of The Depths
Sometimes I am
A Mountain –
Rising up from
The Roots of the World
A pillar holding up the Sky
Stalking Lord of the High Places
Yet others I be
An island
Or tiny grain of sand upon the
Sea\’s pale strand
Washed there by tide; time\’s ebb and flow
Driftwood then
Fallen tree
With sodden bark
Damply rotting and decayed
Lifeless, rife with sickness – soon set to crumble
Were it not for those lips
Those whispered words
Of wisest counsel
The surest of hands long old before dawn?
I should die ere I be born
Yet still I stand with hands
Most high, my fingers stretching far
My face upturned, my mouth agape
Heart burning cold and bright
A blazing, burnished star
For in my chest the drum beats time
Marking secrets so newly found
And tales ne\’er known nor told
Buried grave-deep in the ground
Cold may be my seeming, scarred may be my heart
But still I hunt for wisdom\’s ways
Strengthened in the dark
As you touch me deep within –
Ignite the awèd spark
So it is as moments pass, reflected in your eyes
I see myself –
He Who Never Dies