This piece was inspired by a song called ‘Island At the Edge of the World‘ by Ninebarrow. It is a song I absolutely love – it mesmerised me from the first time I heard it. The singer rows the departed to the Island at the Edge of the World, where their spirits will spend eternity. On this trip, the passenger is his lover.

I wondered what was going through the mind of his lover on her journey, and this piece is the result.

I know what will happen. How it is arranged. It does not happen how he thinks.

He has explained it to me – how he feels the tug towards the shore when the boat appears. How  the The One Who Has Been Called is already in the boat when he arrives. How at peace they are once their spirits reach the Island At the Edge of the World.

But he does not understand.

I do…now.

Because I am the one waiting in the boat.

He does not yet know I have been Called by the Divine. I do not want to see his face when he realises. I do not want to feel the touch of his lips knowing that it is the last time.

He has made this journey a thousand times before – but this time he will learn the truth.

He thinks it is arriving at the Island that brings our spirits peace. “It’s a green and pleasant land, my love,” he reassured me once. “When they arrive, it’s as if they can finally lay their burdens down, and they are at peace.”

He thinks he is simply ferrying us to the Place of Peace.

He does not know.

It is not the Island that brings peace.

It is the journey.

He has told me that the waters can be beautifully calm. He has told me that the waters can be treacherous. He has told me that he can never know what the waters will be like.

He does not understand that the waters depend on his passenger.

Because the waters wash everything away.

But first, they bring everything back.

In the beginning of the journey it is the bad things – every fear, every bit of anger, every instance of jealousy and envy and torment. Every time we were mean or vicious is brought back and relived. We must see what we were.

Then it is our failures – those times we could have helped, could have eased another’s suffering, could have made someone else happy – and we chose not to. We must see what we were.

Then grief – all of our sorrow for those gone before, for those we failed, will come back and it will be like it is new again. We must feel it all again. We must see what we were.

Then we relive every moment of joy. Every moment of laughter. Every time we did help. Every person who is better because they knew us. We must see what we were.

As we relive all of this it is burned away and disappears – forgotten. To us, it is like it never happened.

Eventually all that is left is love.

We feel all of the love in our lives in a single instant – everyone we have ever loved, everyone who has ever loved us – it overwhelms us, and soothes us, and reminds us that we mattered. We must see all that we were.

But that too disappears. There can be no peace if we are missing those we love.

This is what he does not understand. We are at peace when we reach the Island, because there is nothing left.

But he will understand soon.

Unlike other times, this time he will be watching his passenger.

He will have to watch the fear and the anger consume me, without understanding what is happening. But I must see what I was. He will be relieved when it passes.

He will see my torment as I feel the shame and despair of my failures. He will hate that he is unable to help me. But I must see what I was. He will be relieved when it passes.

He will just begin to understand when the grief takes me over. He will know he cannot help. He will hope that this passes quickly. It will not. But I must see what I was.

The joy will be easier for him. It will ease his mind to hear me laugh, see me smile. He will think that this is the end. It is not. I must see what I was. He will be sorry when the joy passes.

Then he will see the love in my eyes as I look at him – and he will know.

I will look deeply into his eyes and he will see everything he has meant to me, every joy he has brought me, how he made me happy, how he made me better.

Then he will realise that this will not last, either.

I know him. He will not look away, even as he finally understands what he will see.

He will watch as my love for him fades from my eyes as he fades from my consciousness.

He will watch as everything that made me who I was drifts away.

He will watch as he becomes nothing to me.

I cannot bear to think of how this will hurt him, and I pray to the gods that I now know do not exist to spare him this.

*******

My prayers were answered.

He did not have to watch my love fade – because it did not.

I am on the Island At the Edge of the World, but I have no peace.

I am the only consciousness here.

He returns often. There will always be Those Who Have Been Called.

He never looks for me. He knows he cannot see me.

But I see him.

I will spend my eternity here on this shore, waiting to see him.