"Imagine it – the ice wide freeze of its size,
And their feet flapping noiselessly
Acres above your dreaming eyes
As you’re anchored by dense breath
And lead to wait and supplicate
In the temple of this Russian god.
Tectonic sections’ weight groaning
In the silent deep, letting go of bubbles
Air and sliding ice slipping upward ever
Towards those at the surface
Who daren’t look down
In case the vertigo clutches them
And their breath away til they sink
Forever into your hungrily grabbing depth.
The deepest point dark as a pine tree
Inverted cleanly delving as it falls further:
A crevice in the scream
As they see down forty metres or more
Sometimes, and think that they could fall
From your buoyancy…"
Thanks to J.
