REFLECTIONS ON A CALM SEA
Cupid has definitely entered the nuclear age ‑
he’s thrown away his bow and arrow and joined the arms race.
I suppose he may have been out there to sea, on the horizon,
as we watched those reflections on the glassy waters…
watching from the periscope of his Polaris, enjoying a joke with Neptune.
More likely, he was far away, watching through a satellite ‑
which would be a terrible shame if he missed that glorious sunset.
But I’m glad he was too far away to listen to our conversation
because that felt private, and intimate;
a growing sense of the person behind the images we make.
Of course, by that time, I had already seen the shimmering of something moving very fast on my horizon, heading towards me.
I wanted to tell you about it as we sat on the pebbles but somehow the setting was too perfect.
Anyway, as we left the beach I could see how much closer that thing had got. Time was running out, it was heading fast and straight, and I knew I had to tell you before it struck (I’m not sure if I wanted to warn you or asking if you could see it too).
Of course, telling you about it made it stop for a while, as if time was frozen by your attitude; hesitant but holding on to the friendship.
Time passed; and some time later I woke up to discover exactly what had hit me.
After the impact my feelings went right off the Richter scale, but since Cupid’s weapons make you feel more alive that was wonderful!
And then came the fallout…
I’m no saint but there lies the paradox; how can I explain it to myself?
…”It’s not a crime”…”It just happened”
Certainly there is some truth in this; Captain Hindsight, radar controller,
thought the missile had been launched some time ago
but had simply traveled too far and too fast to be detected…
now, everything has changed.
And your standpoint? Perhaps it’s inevitable that communications failure
would give us time to reflect.
Now the sea is calmer again, and full of bright, if somewhat mysterious reflections.