A poem about place and love and revelation |
This is the rock, This large flat piece of dolorite, solid surface evidence of ancient subterranean inferno, now fringed about by bright green sea lettuce and soft pink sea anemones; Its cracked surfaces colonised for aeons by oysters and mussels and limpets, by tiny snails and giant periwinkles, a veritable cornucopia for visiting gulls and cormorants. This is the rock, Perching on the terrestrial margin, Warmed by the sun, lashed by the rain, Submerged or exposed by tidal interchange Witness to the mood swings of the ever changing sea; The glass-like calm, the diamond ripple, Or the unrelenting lash of a southern gale, It sits in active passivity, waiting and watching, A quiet participant in the relentless flow of life. This is the rock, Upon which I have sat in quiet meditation Embraced by the beauty of southern Tasmania; At my feet the southern ocean merges with tannined wilderness river water Huon and Garden Islands guard the cove while in the distance is the sometimes snow capped, often heat hazed, strangely exotic Fuji-like cone of Adamson’s Peak. This is the rock, Which early one morning showed me a miracle. A huge eyed seal sat upon this rock And held my gaze as I caught my breath, A selkie of ancestral belief, a totem Of beloved memory. Put off your shoes when you approach And be still for the presence of the lord. This is the rock of holy ground. |