The Chosen One
…
At the horizon I see the clear sky melting
into an azure mirror of the ancient sea
I take a smooth rock, carefully selected
break the silence by throwing it away.
…
An exercise in torpid deliberation,
I ask of the chosen stone to make me proud
and so it does, skipping, walking on water,
my own personal Jesus.
…
Wandering along the beaches of yesterday
I reflect on the past and pray in isolation
that the worries of the world will dissipate
like the ebbing of the tide.
…
Ghostly fingertips of salty coolness
caress my face and entice me to turn.
But when I look back, all I see
are my lonely footprints in the sands of fate
…
At that moment I realise the stone and I
have a situation in parallel
Both of us falling in an ocean of sorts
Each of us worn down by the elements of our existence
…
Once I skipped and danced the waves,
The breakers a force to ride to shore.
But now I fear my momentum has ebbed
And I’m sinking, drowning in self doubt
…
Submerged in my depths I find peace,
no longer at the mercy of ethereal forces.
Still. Tranquil. Undisturbed.
I whisper a silent prayer.
That I will soon rise again.
…