A poem inspired by The Muse of Cold Earth.
Abzu
Fount of all blessings
Allow me to stay dry just a few seconds longer
As I sit at the edge in a swimsuit, towel slung over my shoulder and my feet dangling in the
Slow current
Mark the passage between, lands untold
Healing, degeneration
And something you said in the deep dead of night, between lips closed like a vice grip
Beneath my words there are worse words
And every kiddie pool is a part of the ocean in the sky
Deep sea icebergs are often split into pieces and their destructive power can be dragged across the hull
For the Lord love brokenness, a broken spirit
He will not turn away
But that which dwells in the deep
Searches the surface for Titanic survivors
There are better and worse ways
To be blessed.
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