This is a poem I wrote a little while ago whilst travelling in Israel. I had just climbed Mount Masada to watch the sun rise over the dead sea.
Streams flow into the stray,
They throw reflections of their bodies, playing and dancing
They flow.
The earth mapped,
Drawn out and spread.
Our efforts and strife like specks of glitter on paper,
We once called home.
The safety of such sheets are torn for the acceptance,
Of a vaster love.
For life flows like these streams, all headed for the expanse of oceans.
To lose it’s shallowness is to find the depth of all.
The unwavering awe of it all.
Overflow 