A white silhouette floating on the sea.
A singular shape coming apart from the sky, massively.
An amazing intruder, mixing everything that matters : air, water and light.
He has left his home years ago, not even being able to remember this lost place as its own. He can still only feel the gap, the pain sensed when the stream has taking him away from his team ; strong, powerful and overwhelming. He didn’t realize at this time that, what was coming out as exciting and new was a nightmare of salt and blue : the sea, where he was born, was going to make him small and torn.
At the beginning, he was only fascinated and surprised to discover all this horizon and these waves, these tides. He was happy then, full of energy and not far for heaven. He was young, adventurous, no matter how long was the journey, how dangerous. He aimed at this thrill. He wanted his thoughts to get drilled. He was going to be the one who will tell how great is the fun, how beautiful is the sun, how magic is the run.
There was no doubt, no fear : only the desire to build an empire
until he felt the need to stop to get higher.
It was a morning, not that different from the others : a still water, a flying bird ; a light brighter, every noise heard. He was drifting quietly, with nothing but the joy of travelling peacefully.
And then this thought :
where’s my home ?
He was quite intrigued by this bizarre question indeed.
He was the traveller. He was the explorer. He wanted to discover the world around. He didn’t give a damn of his wounds. Why on earth this soudain procrastination ?
He tried to pull himself together. He was none of believer. He was relying only on his skills to overcome the thrills, the doubts, the sensation to have lost his route.
And then again, a vision, of his family, all around.
The dreadfull impression to have missed the most of a revolution.
Where was he when his sister was getting bigger ? What was he thinking, leaving the Arctic ring ? What could be worst that roaming alone, with no friends but the ones that will be like him : personne.
He looked at him, his strenght melting away ; his dreams fading, wherever he goes, whatever the way.
He looked around, the wide, wide horizon, and him once a giant, and now not so brilliant.
And no manner to go back to what is now the past.
He refused to surrender to the dispair that flooded him with fear and anger. He said that what he has done was unique, and not a reason to be consider like a freak. He listed all the countries he’s been through, all the wonders that he has experienced too. Wasn’t that amazing ? Didn’t he deserve to be acclaimed like a king ?
The sole answer he got was the laugh of a seagul and its friends, like a knife in his heart, pain.
An iceberg once a conqueror, magic.
An iceberg now a lost soul, pathetic.
Chasing life and hope, convinced he had cut all the ropes,
That could restrained him.
That in fact helped him.
What he was considering as freedom was in reality his fate, doomed.
He’s left his entire roots, heart and soul, far away from him, like a fool.
But he has done what he wanted, indeed.
But the time has come to make a new deal, that kind that changes your life, that sort that gives you the light,
you’ve missed all these years,
you’ve craved for, like a flower.
This iceberg now needs to evolved into something loved : a different way to be, than cold and lonely ; an another birth to find his place on earth.
He’got everything for that : air, water and light.
He’s not anymore what he was looking for.
He’s ready to change all to be adorable.
It’s time to metamorphose into something grandiose ; a source of light and joy,
a mother for a baby boy.