Scot Herrigel

The barbaric sea rages,
An inharmonious wind seeks to scuttle
The world,
I stood
On stone projected, land tentacle,
Into the wild, dark waves
Ripped by the wind in white
Gashes sleek and easy as
Cut bread.
Churned water, wind
Like god’s hands sought to dismount
Me from my station -
As if I were
An apple -
And toss me lithely into the chaos.
I though about
The carelessness of the world
With my life or,
For that matter,
Any life; how
So quickly
A stone could fall or
An earthquake shake and sever,
A bolt of electricity burn,
How simply and
Easily
I could be wiped clean
Like a smudge on a window shield
And how the world would yet continue
Churning, chewing, breathing,
Ignorant of my personal tragedy.

Posted on December 13th, 2009 by admin
Filed under: Uncategorized