The Storm - Philosophical Vignettes
By David Gosselin
Among the snowy cornices
And cold plateaus of foggy peaks,
A master and his pupil made
Their way towards the dragon’s grot.
As both the sage and pupil fought
To climb the ancient mountain tops,
A storm descended on the twain
With howling gales and scowling rains.
In fear, and desperate for rest
—Sweet solace from the storm—the boy
Sought shelter in the dark defiles;
He quickly found a narrow space.
“Let us hide in those recesses;
The elements are stern tonight.
“Let us make fire and gather round
The warmth, until the storm subsides.”
Although still eager to ascend,
The master did agree to rest.
They made their way towards a cave,
Which offered them a place to hide.
Alone, and sheltered from the storm,
They lit a fire to warm their limbs.
The humble flames crackled away;
The elements raged on outside.
The master peered across the fire;
Watching the student pondering.
And not a sound was heard, save for
The crackling of the humble flames.
Amid the calm, the student raised
His head and met the master’s eyes.
The old sage sat there silently;
His eyes shimmered across the flames.
“What most men fear more than the storm
Is the quiet,” declared the sage.
He stood up, then both the sage
And pupil walked into the storm.
David Gosselin is a poet, writer, and translator based in Montreal, Canada. He is the founding editor of The Chained Muse and New Lyre Magazine. His epic in blank verse, Athena, appears in the latest issue of New Lyre Magazine.
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It is a sign that a poem has succeeded, and is a good poem, when people discuss its meaning rather than the actual poem itself.
There are a lot of people who fear quiet and solitude. They are afraid to confront their own self.