November
Looking out across Tonyrefail at night,
there is a calm that is tightly held in place,
by the grid of warmly glowing lights;
a certain soft reassurance,
a passage through the black.
One street while bathed in moonlight,
an outline diamond-cut coldly by the stars and
one's reflected fire, lifting gaze;
a broken plain,
a temptation to desire.
There is a footstep on the moon,
a light that never made it home - a fire that at once
saw me but that will never know, or care;
a tunnel back through time,
a bleeding cry of ungiven light upon me.
I walk this passage, taken to me by the moments
everyone has taken before me, never really knowing
but always by ever going on - when abruptly;
a guided flight by fire,
a whirl of sharply crackling sparks
and I am cast up into the sky, my eyes almost seeing
the drop - fearing it - not knowing it's nature
but feeling it's nurture, falling into the shadows
a celebration, of all things.
by Gareth Rosser |