I am trenches in the ocean,
Deep sea breath,
All black and brine, no rot,
There’s nothing there to rot.
I am storm clouds out at sea
Mountains unimaginable
Trailing wind and waves,
Titans but mere tales to me.
I am lightless monoliths
I am the heat
Older than your landyoung fire.
Older than your whisper songs.
I am moonlight glinting
On the waiting weight
Of water, breathing tides.
You are fledgling.
I am darkness in your wake
Cascading,
In the dusk between the surf
Returning, like a dream
And if I die,
I am island-building.
I am mester stoor worm
And I am majesty.
I marveled at the confidence in these stanzas. Strength and endurance — I wish I had more of all these, especially after these uncertain months. Well — dang! — I won’t go too fast, but I’ll try to be black and brine without rot, grander than Titans, and older than “landyoung” fire — what a great new adjective for me. I also like the lightness of moonlight and the transience of dusk between surf – these both make me think of agility and swaying movement.
The “I” here is definitely strong, and I admire how you expressed her.