Sunday, 15 August 2010


How can the night reduce its reach
When all are stretched before it:
Afraid of blundering
In the blindness that defines their
Frightened lives from their first steps.

Brought to book between the nooks
Of days that oscillate
Unsteadily throughout the year;
Darting through the colour charts
And seeking light’s approval

Whilst the dark remains unfazed
By seasons;
Amazed that the uneven
Wanderings of rays are so important
To the planet’s habitants

When its displays are fixed,
And pin pricked,
On a roulette wheel that only seems
To change when viewed
From blackest vantage points

By travellers unravelling a journey
That they haven’t planned
As well as thought,
And brought significance along
With packaged goods.

But then who would assume
To touch the void
When variable and vivid noise
Suffices their requirements
Except the tired and praying.

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