At the end, there is always the sea.
\nNothing survives but these rocks.
\nIn our imagination,
\nthe ragged knight still faces the sunset,
\nas the holed stone breathes the ocean.<\/p>\n
This land exists in myth,
\nthough the rounded sea granite claims permanence.
\nThe softness of the headland,
\ncosseted in grasses and sweet heather.
\nThe waves below tell tales of lost Lyonnesse.<\/p>\n
Here I will remain, entranced in this sunset place,
\nwhen mortality inevitably lets me down.
\nScatter my ashes here, let me forever hear the sea,
\nlie soft abed the grass, anchored to this coast by rock.<\/p>\n
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At the end, there is always the sea. Nothing survives but these rocks. In our imagination, the ragged knight still faces the sunset, as the holed stone breathes the ocean. This land exists in myth, though the rounded sea granite … Continue reading