top of page
An horizon

Obliterated

Of hope, of faith

The boat we take

From this island

The pain

Like a hundred nails in hands and feet

Will you wake me up

Make up for this

The dismissed ideal

Nothing can conceal

The wonders that could have been

Nothing ever seen

Before

Your eyes awoke

Bespoke

As some creation

Unfolding

From your heart

Its own life

Its own fate

Will you wake

Or too late

The boat far out

The lake too deep

The senses reel

The eddying giddiness I feel

Your face

That embrace

And it all was for

Just to be no more

An horizon stretched

Like a line in the sand

Some stroke of genius 

To walk on water

Or part it still

No movement

Only silence

This thrill

20190410_170246.jpg

Words March 2020 inspiration listening to Bjork.

bottom of page