Black Rock Angel

The rugged Cape coastline abounds with tales of the sea such as this one. The Black Rock Angel was once a good friend of mine – Ah, but that’s another story! There's a black rock gleaming brightly as the morning sun peeps through, on a misty sea that's resting in the bay. A woman picks the fynbos, painting footprints in the dew, looking south to Cape Agulhas far away. In a house beneath the mountain lies an old man in his death as the family are summoned to his side. They listen to the whispers of his final rasping breath while he bravely battles ebbing of the tide. "Cast my ashes to the ocean where it thunders dark on stone and the spray flies high and waves with foam run white. A mother with her whale-child heeds the gray gulls cry alone and the lighthouse probes through darkness every night." "So my Son, I'll not see Christmas for my burden is too grave, on the rock out there my final wish to be." A young man and his father swim together on the wave, with a little cask of ashes for the sea." But Poseidon seems offended as he drags a swimmer down and the white sand sees the boy emerge alone. Atlantic rushes hungry, an intruder quick to drown, It's another's ghost who's claimed that ebon throne. "Cast my ashes in the ocean where it thunders to the shore and the spray flies high and waves with foam run white. Our whale-child leaves his mother for the southern blow and roar where lightning rents the black and stormy night." On a blue Atlantic ocean sails a small boat on the swell, while a brisk southeaster blows this Christmas day. Young skipper at its tiller has no time on tears to dwell as he fights through crashing breakers, foam and spray. There's a black rock glistens whitely as it greets the rising moon from a restless sea that's brooding in the bay. A woman counts the abalone, leaves footprints on the dune, from her distant Cape Agulhas, turns away. - Graphic © W.W. Schwim - Near Danger point, Cape Agulhas