The Oracle trying to keep things in perspective. And pushing that sausage.

I’ve just seen the photos for Paul Brookes’ cloud challenge, and this poem seems to fit. You can see the images here.

A pause in the tempest

Blue immensity,
this wind-driven change,
this turning into the cold,

we must pass through,
almost a dream, sea-deep,
not death not sleep.

We follow in the seals’ wake,
their rolling, tunnelling
passage, to the place

where the whispering of the sun
is the language of the moon,
the tongue of the planet.