Heart Tundra
A Poem.
Terror.
Sheer terror.
The horror of unending blue
In every possible shade and tone.
All is glassy ocean,
Frozen against time.
All is depth,
Empty yet full with shadows
playing off against the cold light
of loneliness.
Moored in a place of heart-tundra.
Mountains stand as adversaries
But even they crumble at their edges,
And crash as waves from peak to trough.
Aeons that smash through the icy surface
and slip back into the abyss.
There is a certain beauty in it all.
A dread beauty that tears at the heart,
And siphons strength.
An earthen stone building
With an open doorway, wooden framed,
Beckons.
That domicile is the only unblue there is
though inside is black as pitch.
It seems preferable to this place
As if something alive might dwell inside
But footsteps falter,
Time itself grinds to a halt
To stay limbs and deny access.
Reaching, reaching,
Grasping.
The cold light piercing.
It freezes the bones.
Where the warmth of human touch?
It aridifies.
Where the relieving rains of another soul?