Metaphors In Stone
Tall, proud cliffs, rising out of the sea,
Straight and hard, withstanding bombs,
Its protective outer shell encompassing
The soft inner limestone of the Island
Like my body protects the inner softness of me,
The part that identifies with the Island,
Needing to protect and yet be protected.
Why do I identify with the stone?
Its beauteous colours of cream through gold,
Of its increasing hardness as it weathers
And waits,
To ripen and harden with age,
Breathless over time, until …..
It is chosen.
Finally.
Like the Island has chosen me.
Copyright © Rita Simpson | Year Posted 2009
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