In Love, I am the
mountain,
Broody, insurmountable,
surrounded by the sea.
A mystery, everyone
says, what fortunate soul might conquer her?
Who would dare?
Truth be told, dying to
be overwhelmed, I softened my edges, allowed pride to crumble.
I became vulnerable,
ready, willing to be worn down by the sea, as is right.
Alas, exposed, below
me, my conqueror did not rise.
My Sea, my lover,
remained unstirred –
Uniformly void of
spume, of thunderous roar - of obsession.
Like a glass eye
viewing a masterpiece, he was equally oblivious to me.
Behold, how even my
shadow lays listless upon him, could he not, at the very least, stir
that!
I ask, O Lover, where
is your passion?
Where is your desire to
drag me beneath you!
Curse your
tranquillity!
If still waters run
deep, then I declare you fathomless!
Sailors call you
traitor!
The wind grows tired of
you!
And so do I!
O how you have brought
the lofty low.
Made miserable with the
longing to be wanted.
Why do you stay if you
have no desire to take?
What storms have
forgotten you in my wake?
Abandoned you to my
shores!
I, the Mountain, it
seems, must crumble down into your depths and carry you away!
Why is it that I must
hammer against you!
Its not fair!
Its shameful!
O Sea, why don't you
beat against me, consume me, drag me beneath you.
Like the other waters
do, to the other mountains.
Leave me dry!
Leave me be!
But do not leave me to
beat myself to sand.
Do not have me reduce
myself to sparkles on a distant shore.
Its your duty done,
yes, well executed to be sure, but far from the bard's pretty
telling.
That is too cruel,
even for you.
Salty, demon!
Made of my tears.
Why don't you want me?
O where is your
passion?
I ask and I ask again,
but you never answer!
Questions with no
answers become riddles!
In love, I am the
mountain,
Unwanted! Abandoned!
Tormented!
A curse upon you! To
heck with it!
I shall ask instead:
Why do you stay?
True and steady as a
clear blue sky, as close to me as the wind on my face,
holding my shadow.
Embracing me, where I
touch you.
Because you love me?
Because you hate me?
Or is it sad mistake
that leaves you lapping eternally at my stones?
By Jaymee Bennett
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