Monday, 9 February 2009

Night's Middle

I wrote this poem in February 2006


NIGHT'S MIDDLE
If I could live at night's middle
instead of running rather ragged
and
drilling at the day
then my vision would be brighter
and the voice of
God heard clear.
This morning, even,
the moon's fullest beam
shone
bright as day.
total stillness
haunted dead trousers on the line
until the softness
of the Spirit's coolest breath
walked them gently
and I shuddered, not with fear
but with delight
as my too warm
breast was cooled
by the lightest of touches.
Who can faint while such a
zephyr
reminds me of my own aliveness.

I did not rise.
almost
disciplined
to stay in bed
to the point of pain
lest, in embracing
the middle of the night,
I devoured the day
which still demands my
full attention.
And so, I crept
as early as I could
to put pen to
paper.
visions fleeing,
God's voice whispering
"Wiedersehen!"
and by a few lines,
the rising of the sun,
the plaintive magpie
and the start of the traffic
night's middle
had gone.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

beautiful, Stephen

I Amme said...

To an Administrator
















































To an Un-named Blog Administrator.

The Chief Defect of Simon Spark
was changing things by light of dark.
But no matter how he tried
to some he finished up off-side.
His Minders to the rescue came
and did their Best, but all in vain.
They pleaded on their Bended Knees
"How do we cope with this disease?
It self destructs as we know well
but where and when we can not tell."

But The-o-log-ic Simon Said
some learned words straight from the Head:
" 'though what it means is what I say,
we could re-vis-it it some day
but for the present, By and Large
I am the one who is in Charge.
While I might throw away some lines
and Sermonise on Better Times,
you can't blame Me, for can't you see
the aura of My Majesty."
Ha Bit