MARK VELICHKO

He’s a peaceful Hawaii, bathed in sunlight and warmth, but beneath the lush palms and golden beaches lies the world’s tallest mountain, a volcano, emperor of the ancient sea bed peaking above Magellan’s waters like St Peter’s spire towers above Rome; a bright star, destroyer and creator, his light radiating across the universe, illuminating each celestial sphere; sun of Austerlitz scattering mist, blinding me; clearing the path for my advance, always following close behind like a collie, never leaving my side; as sought after as ice on a summer’s day; yet his presence isn’t required and his voice is a mosquito, ignored only until it bites; like Venus in the night sky, a bright light, always there, thought to be a heavenly paradise, the lover’s sphere, a place of beauty, with lush forests teaming with life until seen by Mariner,