Looking out over the fjord I count the years

Fran Cairns

Today I watched over the fjord counting the years since I fell in the ocean of your loving.

Captivated, as the water in fathoms immeasurable, between sculpted cliff and boulder, leaning shoulder to shoulder, like the hours and days passing. Keepers of memory and time, these ancient guides, watermarks indelibly scribed in their sides.

Adrift I glide free, buffeted by wind and fierce lunar tide like the crevices of loose scree that tumble and fall in random play coming to rest as they lay, held by one, balanced by the other.

Light dances, reflecting the radiance in your eyes, illuminating depths that sway to the longing of the moon, as eternal and mysterious as my love for you.