A dusty track winds on through the desert scrub,
Where circling crescendos of tumultuous time,
Whip me up in waves.
Losing perspective of place,
I am plunged into razor sharp waters,
Trapped under sheet glass ice,
Isolated from the outer world.
Fingers recoil from a frozen ocean,
Free falling into the deep,
Waves swallow words, muffle murmurs,
Consumed by a fathomless inky depth.
My mind’s eye resonates sonar sounds,
Slow moving shafts of light reach down,
Like hands to guide me to the surface.
Spluttering out salt water to stand my stead,
I am immersed in arid air & sun,
Drying the dew from my skin with tactile touches,
Infinite possibilities stretch ahead of me.
About the Creator
SJ Elden
I have had a political play professionally acted and directed at the Contact theatre and a comedy short accepted by the Barbican theatre. I have been a featured writer on the Hour of Writes and had book reviews published on Culturised.
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