Poem "the Lay of the Land"

where I went the mountains grew wild
and water everywhere in rivers and falls and in rain
but it was nothing I hadn't seen
I realised in inexplicable pain

and sharp black rocks cut me
as the violent sea dragged me under
but it was nothing I hadn't felt before,
no sense of wonder

then darkness came and stars were there
but it was the same ones I had already seen
and it all seemed so mean

and the sun rose with white unwarming light
like a thousand sunrises before

and I was giving up
and letting go
for it was nothing
nothing
as giving in
or holding on

but then blue ice cracked and wrung and loosened upon the world
the dying weight of aeons
grinding, crushing and screaming

like nothing
nothing I had ever seen

and the birds danced above it
no fear and all speed
teasing me to join them
without taking heed

and a joy I felt
breathing in the cold
cold freedom
the salt of sea and dust of rocks
and I knew
I had never been here before
for it was like nothing
nothing
before

"I am NOT Sherlock"

(epiphany I had a few days ago realising that no matter how much I relate to a character and see things in them that is identical to myself; I am NOT them - I am wholly, awesomely only myself, with everything that comes with it, good and bad. and I love it...I love being me and mo matter how much I can resemble someone else I will never truly be them in the same sense they will never truly be me...)