Tales of Icebergs #24

• 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