Feb 2016
Safe Harbor
The picture is gray and colourless.
Shades of black pervade the photograph;
We are left to ponder at the real colors hidden therein.
Can’t you imagine what it was though?
See that vast horizon stretching like some
Big blue tarpaulin providing shelter to the Earth’s surface.
White foamed caps blinking, disappearing near and far.
The rock in the foreground beneath them becoming baked in the late August fever.
Rays of melted sunshine barred only by
Lofty lackadaisical puffs of moisture meandering across their endless plains.
Their bodies warmed by rock and soft smooth skin alike,
Recovering from the liquid ice from whence they came minutes before.
Simple refractions and reflections of light from millions of miles away dancing across
Infinitely changing patterns of molecules, ultimately landing on light kissed exteriors.
Two forms interlocked with passion’s grip,
And the sound of a breeze drifting sweet nature song into their minds from the Invisible Shore.
The taste of another being suffusing their mouths, searing their fingers, and engulfing their lungs.
It smells like warm crushed leaves, crashing waves, and contentment.
The beginning of autumn and the beginning of the end.
Fall into this image and continue with us.
Can’t you see them that evening?
Their emotions viciously tearing at their muscles, motions motivated by coursing chemicals.
Feathery sheets envelop them in the irony of the burdens to come.
Cluelessly they explore their youth in
Perfect rhythm; Imperfect beings consumed in all the wrong parts of life.
Now can you not recognize them?
Their despondent expressions are not unlike your own.
Weary faces from broken hearts.
Crushed by the movement of time, the fleeting feelings
They once had the chance to caress are nothing;
Nothing but the relapses we relive in sparks of neurons,
Electrified like the moments once were, flashed back to our mind’s eye.
Step back out into reality. Pause. Reminisce.
Where is that Unseen Shore? That refuge for the rest of our existence?
Is it but a figment of our imagination?
The breeze of the trees, the whole continent behind you, is
Hidden yet holds everything real and true.
Without it would we not be left to drift through the blue expanses of the oceans of doubt?
Is our Safe Harbor not in those we love?
These questions threaten to drown us, but
Who are we to know the answers?
The picture is gray and colourless.
Shades of black pervade the photograph;
We are left to ponder at the real colors hidden therein.
Can’t you imagine what it was though?
See that vast horizon stretching like some
Big blue tarpaulin providing shelter to the Earth’s surface.
White foamed caps blinking, disappearing near and far.
The rock in the foreground beneath them becoming baked in the late August fever.
Rays of melted sunshine barred only by
Lofty lackadaisical puffs of moisture meandering across their endless plains.
Their bodies warmed by rock and soft smooth skin alike,
Recovering from the liquid ice from whence they came minutes before.
Simple refractions and reflections of light from millions of miles away dancing across
Infinitely changing patterns of molecules, ultimately landing on light kissed exteriors.
Two forms interlocked with passion’s grip,
And the sound of a breeze drifting sweet nature song into their minds from the Invisible Shore.
The taste of another being suffusing their mouths, searing their fingers, and engulfing their lungs.
It smells like warm crushed leaves, crashing waves, and contentment.
The beginning of autumn and the beginning of the end.
Fall into this image and continue with us.
Can’t you see them that evening?
Their emotions viciously tearing at their muscles, motions motivated by coursing chemicals.
Feathery sheets envelop them in the irony of the burdens to come.
Cluelessly they explore their youth in
Perfect rhythm; Imperfect beings consumed in all the wrong parts of life.
Now can you not recognize them?
Their despondent expressions are not unlike your own.
Weary faces from broken hearts.
Crushed by the movement of time, the fleeting feelings
They once had the chance to caress are nothing;
Nothing but the relapses we relive in sparks of neurons,
Electrified like the moments once were, flashed back to our mind’s eye.
Step back out into reality. Pause. Reminisce.
Where is that Unseen Shore? That refuge for the rest of our existence?
Is it but a figment of our imagination?
The breeze of the trees, the whole continent behind you, is
Hidden yet holds everything real and true.
Without it would we not be left to drift through the blue expanses of the oceans of doubt?
Is our Safe Harbor not in those we love?
These questions threaten to drown us, but
Who are we to know the answers?
