Illumination by Leopold Bertholet

Written by plumtree

Topics: Archive (2012-2019), Uncategorized


                  by Leopold Bertholet

The seashell stares at the place where sea and sky meet;

The wind blows through the air, walking on its silent feet.


The seashell, a sculpture of pink and white,

That never sleeps whether it’s day or night,


In a restless agony sees the gray clouds looming above

That can take it like a hand in an old, battered glove.


A storm is brewing, a storm might come,

The thunder will start playing on its drum;


The lightning will plunge into the nervous sea

Allowing all the violent waves to be set free.


The storm is like rain coming through a wide open door;

But the clouds spread out; their wall of darkness is no more.


At last comes the eternally shining sun:

The water sparkles in its illumination.


And the seashell looks upon the calmed sea:

It is his loving friend and his cruel enemy.


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