An unsteady rock
On which I stand
Your news washes over me like a white-capped breaking wave,
Potentially tidal in effect,
A riptide, an undertow
Threatening to wash me away
Or at the very least, to take my breath away.
But no, I roll with the tide
I waver, I falter, I sway,
Yet maintain my centre of gravity, my equilibrium
Balance is restored.
I still stand on my rock, steady and strong.
The storm passes,
It’s left its mark…
Little eddies of disquiet can still perturb,
Yet I look out to the horizon
With a calm heart and mind.
small stones 