And then, for a moment, he yielded.
The Child’s eyes, ever-set with brow
still burrowed beneath the ridge, now
told the full truth of Grief’s position.
No longer could he hold back the water;
his strongest breaches overrun by the rising.
And it raved on, that river. It raved on
and on and on and yielded nothing.
not in grandeur or reality or splashing
not in gaggle or gargle or gushing whispers
of ghosts and God and that which is gone
and will be forever.
A sudden flicker of light – and it was captured.
Etched forever, the landscape displayed by Lights lumens.
And The Knowing takes form there, holding a final frame.
And so, carried by the waters, he braved the deep dark downward chambers
letting the image fixed by light spill itself upon those cavern walls,
revealing what is true, what is, what always will be –
and what is yet to come.
