Caricamento in corso...
The Fog Warning, by Winslow Homer
Robert L. Martin

Currents

Currents

I see you dancing in the river beds, winding around the rocks, carrying all that you amassed on your journey down the mountain.
While I stand among the tides I can feel you wrapping your tail around my torso, pulling me down into the deep; you with your unrelenting power that commenced  in the twilight of creation.
Everything that you touch yields to your command, for you are the unrelenting tyrant that rules the seas.  Sailors flee from you, yet they are drawn to you.  You offer them solace and take them safely to their homes, or stand in the way of their dreams.   You are both friend and foe.
Poets are enchanted by your effervescence and your passion.  You move with no restraint, and you play with life as if it were a toy.  Isn’t love a journey into the uncontrollable and its fascination with its charm?  
I have also heard stories of how you befriended aviators as they soared across the skies.  You brought them swiftly to their destinations, but sometimes made them work harder to get there, the mighty one that you are.
For all the currents that roam the waters, the earth, and the skies, I stand amazed at your power.  You showed me your cruelty but yet your clemency, your supremacy but yet your servility; but most of all you showed me life, and the way it moves with passion.

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