Still waters run deep, she said.

She, having the wisdom of years and I

In my years of youthful naivete, believed her.

And I learned that Love does not confine herself

To the water's myopic surface and depths.

She dances with vivaciousness

Relishing the fullness of the elements and their emotions.

 

No considerations of commitment

For the sailor working the yardarm

To do so would bring him tumbling down.

Every cell of his being at one with the Oneness

Every atom intuiting and savouring the changes

He survives in the soaring of his Spirit.

 

Battered by storms, he is taken to the edge.

Knees loose

They absorb the shocks of the ocean's tirade.

Body swept by the winds

He jives with their every changing direction.

The rains pound a vibrancy upon his skin.

He is cold and wet.

He is invigorated and alive.

He feels the Universe without

And within.

He is One.

 

And in the calm of the evening

Rocked gently in a lullaby

He serenely scans the peaceful sea

Consciously respectful of her violent potential.

In the sensual curve of the horizon

He feels the comfort of the womb.

Sun glow sweeps a kalaidoscope of ripples

Her rays tease the heavens with ethereal light.

 

This is Love.

Demanding in her attention

She rewards with a taste of Heaven.

Uncompromising to fear and neglect

She will dispatch a soul to the still waters.

 

Where creatures breed

Bleached of light

And

Life stagnates.

     Still waters run deep she said.

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