The Iceberg

I am an iceberg
moving in still waters
the bulk of me is
under the surface, but the
top notch above is
bright, white and
gleaming in the sun revealing
all things by its light, but
I run beneath, run silent,
run deep, and not many
to those regions come, for
not many hold the line
to plumb a depth of
being that is deeper than
majority, is deeper than
imagining, and so I move
in my  still waters, silent,
deep, keeping my  secrets -
the bulk of me -
well-hid.

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