Bright vision of Fanshaw Bay
creased dark memory of Storm Island
the servers of time-lines
rippling waves lift the vessel froward
with a view clear through
water, that is silence
and the silence is the medium
depth diminished light where lived creatures of colors
coastal mafias without life-proliferating
non-sentient biology with stones and boulders
respire water and time swaying
softly in the current
Beyond bites and harbors
into a wind tunnel’s force pushing waves
focused soundless, roiling, noisome turbulent
watery tempest’s game of chance
life and death challenges for motor v 2.5
where prayer finds a line across
two miles of wave crests, troughs and confusion
in certainty of uncertainty
about capsizing, swamp or drowning
in cold purity
the sky below and water above
where a skiff goes its own way
alone in the wind
the right line atop the summit
leads waves to lesser, calmer fractals
outside Slocum Inlet
Stephen’s Passage eastern shore is quiet
a view to morrow has just one squall
overnight to drag anchor to rocks
crunchy barnacles in the night
Ahead a brief transitioning from being and time
timeless space-time like a membrane
stretched without leaving its own place
replete with memory and perception
Frederick Sound next with deep space overhead
None would know the imperfections
of lifeless land insulated with atmosphere
where death is an unformed abstract concept
embedded potentiality within a Higgs field
unfolding dimensions of membranes
even gravity, crust and bays
eroded in Limestone
all floating like Betty’s balloons
the forever sky is a solitary sight
an all-encompassing piece of the membrane
sea floor shaking with primary waves
the surface and brain with secondary waves
motoring the vessel through pressure waves
over the surface even the wind is for-itself
another shape of temporal topology
before the eternity of the Lord.
Garrison Gibson: books and blog 