ponders the mariner (but still the sun burns)

If there were water
And no rock
If there were rock
And also water
And water
A spring
A pool among the rock
If there were the sound of water only
Not the cicada
And dry grass singing
But sound of water over a rock
Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees
Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop
But there is no water

~

what if they had remained
where they were
while the ocean
was still composed
of water

what if
he had not pursued
so relentlessly . . .

though that
was not
a one-sided
thing

for he knew
in his heart
that he had been
goaded

and
what if he
had realized
the true nature
of that pursuit
much earlier

aligned –
perhaps –
the two mirror glasses
to establish
the single image

the true
image

and what if . . .

and what
if

it could all
be different
if . . .

but the changes –
as they came –
had been subtle
things

the transformation
from salt and water
to
furnace
and to sand . . .

imperceptible

until
they were the only
truth
and water
merely a reference point
in history

could it
have been
different . . .

he was unable
to decide

but days passed
while he pondered

and the sun
continued
to burn

~

I’ve been captured by the tale of the mariner and the white whale, to the point where I think they will drive this project – for the main part – the rest of the way to home.

In coming days or weeks I’ll also post about the future of this blog. In essence, I think I will cease posting to it at the end of this calendar year, in favour of working more out of my www.FrankPrem.com site.

More on that later.

8 thoughts on “ponders the mariner (but still the sun burns)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.