If the iron has entered your soul,
the saltsting of life,
the harsh and crystallized barbs
of the world
will rust it without mercy.
NaCl’s a funny thing.
It can preserve; it can destroy.
Packed densely enough around flesh
it will draw off liquid, dry that flesh,
freezing it, so to speak,
for the future.
But carried in air or borne in water
it corrodes the sternest iron relentlessly.
Best keep your resolve unjacketed in metal,
the better to be sure that when you need it
it won’t flake away – brittle, useless –
leaving you defenseless in the coming storm.
© 2013 RC deWinter ~ All Rights Reserved
Metaphor for the avoiding of rigidity and the necessity of adaptability.