The Gaze of Venus
Oceans alive
wild with dreams,
cliffs stand,
Still.
Rising up,
a testament
of fortitude.
Without some
resistance the
dream
will never take
shape.
Waves
crashing
an end
to begin
a new
form.
Rising up to
meet the grace
that made the
granite
soar.
No story,
told
even those
that flow,
have
penetrated the
heart
within
the face.
Sheer walls,
of strength
that crumble
when meeting a
new swell,
just as a wave
dissolves
in Venus gaze.
The child,
the saint,
the martyr,
the hero,
all surrender
in her
embrace
at the end
of their journey.
We can never
know a secret,
not our own
nor another's
and this is the
aeons wisdom
smiling as
unknown whispers
leave lips,
only to return
with a
lovers gesture.
Fires of passion,
never met,
halcyon days
quench the inspired's
thirst, long enough
to desire another sip
from the
chalice
of experience.
The tides are always
leaving or coming
ashore,
horizon
never met,
yet the sand
beneath feet
sinks, softens
and tantalises
towards distant
shores.
We leave to
return.
The known is revealed
by the Cliffs of Time, the
unknown abounds
in the fathoms.
Alabaster Angels,
sing stories
home.
The Sorrow
is known in
all of us,
the voyage
that drops
expectations
and penetrates
beliefs.
The sun will rise,
and set,
yet the
clouds loom
to convince us
otherwise,
so that we can,
gaze, steady, beyond
them.
To grasp the
ephemeral
is to
know loss,
and
also to
know this is
sure,
as time passing.
The ancients
know
they are babes,
cherubim glory
to be held
by the infinite
and know
the mundane.
Not a minute,
can pass,
"cherish"
says the
cliff face,
"let go"
sings
the ocean.
Somewhere
between worlds
in a
vast sky,
the stars
bear witness.
~ by Prue Jeffries, Porto Venere, 2018