Prelude to "Jump"

Poetry

Mountains may be climbed,
        charted
        mapped
        known;
an end point clearly shown.
I have seen the mountain top,
   the vast, scattered plains below.
Short, sharp breaths,
and the taste of blood in my throat.

I have struggled upwards,
        and have overcome,
        but never have I been so undone
        as when I find my feet in the sea
                   salt air
                   brine
                   and gulls hollering after me.

Mountains, the great struggle of man,
    but our soul, our soul, is the sea.

The ocean is proof enough
    that being in love requires no person.
Mist, tears mingle in my eyes,
    staring at the grey mirror, unbound, before me.

I cannot know how far it goes,
    or the darkness of its depths,
    but when I die give me over
                    to the Atlantic,
                    the ocean,
                    to rest. 




-In Dingle, Co. Kerry 
 30 May 2016