The Iceberg Dawn
The Ship is in pitch darkness now. The engine is turning over gently.Many of the crew are in their quarters. The captain is upon the bridgeand the anchor is far below, in the beneath world, holding us tightlyonto this one.
The ship protected by cupped hands of light awaits morning. From thesky we are a firefly caught upon a spiders web wafting in wind. Snowflakes flocks of white butterfly spirits released from under theclouds land on my shoulders. And as the they melt the sun smearsitself on the back of the clouds who in turn spread her light equallyacross the sky. Morning has come.