Poetry is a funny thing. I don't read a lot of it, and most of the time it remains elusive and hidden from all understanding. I have had better luck recently, and clearly when a poem hits me, it hits me hard.

Coleridge. The language (which, admittedly, takes a bit of effort) has a rhythm that swallows you into the depth of the rumbling sea and covers you with the smell of salt. It sweeps you off your feet and makes you feel the weight of the albatross around your neck. The melody dances with the sea creatures and good spirits. When the sailors rise, it's time to go home, but the eeriness of the moment promises no happy ending. A ghost ship drenched in a slimy pale green colour is what I envisioned. A little too well for a 2am reading session.

What about the meaning of this all then? There are some obvious interpretations (one of them could not be spelled out more clearly at the end), and which one you choose might depend the most on what the poem makes you feel. I'd personally leave out the "albatross represents Christ" -thing altogether, because it ignores the overwhelming presence of nature.

I guess the conclusion we can draw from this is that I tend to be awestruck by poetry that moves me with its use of language and imagery, instead of being overly closed by metaphors and such.