Icebergs

"Icebergs"

I always fear that arguments
are icebergs
That too much lurks beneath
more than I would know of
when I get close.

Cold cathedrals
that loom,
can't be avoided.

After the iceberg argument
I will be wrecked
All over for me.

I read of sailors whose ship
got locked in the ice.
Eventually, driven insane
by cold,
they took axes to the boat,
and burn the wood.
Though doing so meant
their inevitable death,
they snatched another few hours
from life.

In extremity,
we will sacrifice hope
for a few moments of warmth and comfort.
Swap future for now.

It is very hard for me,
not to get paralysed by
iceberg dread
if an argument begins.
I look at photographs of icebergs,
to draw comparisons,
to draw strength.
They are not just white and cruel,
there is a beauty there,
light refracts and bounces
showing pinks and soft blues.

You don't have to end there,
in the cold
pulling things apart for a brief
moment of spark.
sometimes the two of you can
hack at the ice and free the ship
instead.

(A poem inspired by Barry Lopez's marvellous book Arctic Dreams - and
my own lifelong fear during any argument, no matter how innocuous that
this will be the last one... )