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The Iceberg

The iceberg
Detached itself
And began floating
With the tide
Coaxed away
From the shoreline
By the steady barrage
Of white capped waves
Slapping their salty water
On its frozen face
Like a taste of freedom
Drifting aimlessly at first
But gradually
Getting further and further
From the coast
And into much stronger currents
Heading, unwittingly
In a southerly direction
Towards the high seas
Embarking on an adventure
Into the unknown
A monumental journey
That will ultimately
Culminate in its dying
This mountain of snow and ice
Nearer its beginning
Surreal and daunting
Strikingly white
Against the peaceful blues
Of the sky and the seas
Its beauty in solitude
Magnificent and bold
Ostensibly all alone, though
Frequently touched
By the abundance of life
Swimming just beneath the surface
And visited on many occasions
By the foraging water birds
Landing on its peaks
To rest for a bit
The glacial iceberg
Many thousands of years old
Melting imperceptibly
Into the warmth
Of the surrounding water
Its essence flowing invisibly
Into the ocean’s depths
And in the end
Becoming fully immersed
Disappearing
Into this seemingly infinite place
Like a ghost
A Goliath, lost at sea
Returned to its origins
And to eternity