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