I Want to Be

My friend, Sam wrote this and I wanted to post it right after my Iceland photos. Thank you Sam!


I want to be The Mountain;
Majestic and immoveable,
Oblivious of its own authority,
Whose craggy vertices demand concrete will:
That which holds its head up
Against the endless Below
And dares to breathe in thick white clouds above.

I want to be The Wind,
The blindfolded courier of Providence:
Careless, boundless;
Chariot after chariot after still leaves
Of lulled trees on morning's eve,
That will, in my wake, awake and snap, tap
And dance to the rhythm of the night.

I want to be the nimble rock,
Chipped off the ol' boulder;
Tumbling down with curiousity's vigour
And youth's abandon,
Into ebbs and flows
And 'yeses' and 'knows'
In search of untold stories.

I want to be The Great Ocean
That holds in her open mouth
An appreciation of Infinity's cause,
Its power to transcend and transform -
Transform my nimble rock into a pebble
And my pebble into, itself,
A blade of Great Ocean.

The Great Ocean I want to be
Holds in her bulging belly
Naïve mountains, clueless of blue skies,
Yet to breathe life into a pumping heart;
And nights and nights of blurry horses
Galloping on spurred moments,
With their fire-lit eyes casting vast red glows
Upon her countless beds.
Asleep in them is every part of me,
Beaming,
Dreaming of The Great Ocean I want to be.

- O S Akingbade.