The Appearance of a Sacred Island

A secluded, hard to reach
Place in the mind of the world
Could be a fortress
For the fortunate

Or an imagined haven.
It’s odd we think of islands,
Whether of the West, the Blessed,
The lost or undiscovered,

The small and vulnerable
To storms and inundations,
As sanctuaries.

Remote and small is not safe,
But the trap feels like escape.
We must know something we don’t.