• Tales of icebergs. •


I will tell you the most beautiful story
that stayed in my memory. Once upon a time, In the icy oceans.. the waters were calm, and the sky was stormy, but silent, silent as a Sunday afternoon in winter.

There he was.. they? that? I can't say for sure what, I know what I saw, I saw icebergs gathered, how a city had wires, poles, light, and that, that...
A huge idol in the middle, shimmered like polished silver, shimmered as if the sky was clear and the sun hit directly. I'll never forget that. It was beautiful."

-

The iceberg cuts its facets from within.
Like jewelry from a grave
it saves itself perpetually and adorns
only itself, perhaps the snows
which so surprise us lying on the sea.
Good-bye, we say, good-bye, the ship steers off
where waves give in to one another's waves
and clouds run in a warmer sky.
Icebergs behoove the soul
(both being self-made from elements least visible)
to see them so: fleshed, fair, erected indivisible.



by Gen Doodler | twitter.com/GenDoodler