The chief looked to the horizon, forever surveying the movement of water. All life was cataloged in its molecules, and the chief never tired of reading its memories. There was a comfort to living in this slow time of stone where stasis reminded people who passed by that there is a lingering but also a letting go. The water, forever rocking against the hard stone, eroded centuries and not minutes.
The chief had seen it all. He had watched the reckless shatter against his chest. The mighty who would defeat fall back into the belly of the womb as though returning to the beloved without choice. And, he had seen love, oh yes, he had seen love.
Each morning he watched the sun make love to Earth, filling her with the seeds of its golden light. He watched the sky blush into crimson before it widened into the blue expanse of truth, spreading open without end. Birds, defying gravity as they lifted to the beyond and danced love across the horizon. And in the deep below, he felt it. Love, spreading through liquid memory in the song of the whales and dolphins echoing the heartbeat of the goddess as it stirred through strata and sank deep into his bones.
For Sue Vincent’s Weekly #WritePhoto prompt #stillness