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.
Collaborative poem by:
@brudberg @MyVogonPoetry @vivchook @jdubqca @troublegummer @Permabloom @afcoory
Painting by Anne Frandi-Coory