Of Godafoss and Longing

as the light gets brighter, I delight

(clearest blue skies, free from smog, electric and telecommunication masts, a dreamlike vision of what could have been, a different reality, an alternative illusion of grandeur)

settle in for a Spring of promise

(or unobstructed by a glorious urbanised cityscape where greenery is allowed to thrive)

a Spring of change and horizons

(Goðafoss- visions of natural beauty, the untapped creative potency of the world, the draping waters of Goðafoss, of River Skjálfandafljót)

old and new, open to change

even as it terrifies

and grapples at my

low-bar confidence

my sub-par insistence

that leads to

high-end reluctance

-

a life of substance

(not the tallest, deepest or most dangerous of its kind)

a life less than

(12 metres tall over 30 metres wide, stops my breath.)

anything but ordinary

(Oh dreams of its glory befalling my eyes. A vision of crystalised Hydrogen Oxide)

belongs to the brave

and the bold

(as the land of green vibrancy and gleaming liquid mirrors whispers and calls to me)

happenstance is not

existence

*

Thanks for reading!

Author's Notes: Another experimental poem thing. Inspired, though not entirely, by Goðafoss.

Here are other things: