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http://www.youtube.com/You2oeb, http://nowthyself.wordpress.com/, http://nowthyself.blogspot.com/, http://whitmanarchive.org/published/LG/1881/index.html, Interested in movies, music, nature, biking, poems

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Amen

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Holland

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male, 49

On a beautiful morning, a great white bird landed on the iceberg and drank some water out of that rain puddle. 'Hey, go away, I have so little and then I will never become Water!' complained the iceberg. But the white bird looked straight at him with his bright, dark eyes and said:
Water lies on water lies on water, why are you so thirsty?
In this way he was floating along on a quiet morning, looking quietly into the abyss, alone on the calm sea. Suddenly he looked up: there, from out of the depths there rose a red fireball high up into the air that reflected itself for a long perfect moment - in the rain puddle, his armor of ice and the abyss; all around him was golden sunlight.
And then like a bolt of lightning all his questions, plodding and fear fell away from him and he knew with complete certainty: 'Water lies on Water lies on Water, where is the thirst?'
All the effort to remain floating fell away and he disappeared. The impossibility of unity for the iceberg. The sound of water remains and are heard by seagulls 'Water lies on water lies on water, where is the thirst?'

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2 years 5 weeks