Friday the 19th of November.

‘The canals are empty

There are no hammers or anvils

To hear, other than

The silent roaring of the void

Standing in a wind tunnel

Leaning against the moment

When everything would stop.

Each time I close my eyes

There is a total eclipse

Darker than midnight

With a blood moon

Pin pricks full of energy

Gathering at the edges

Blinking on and off

If only we could focus on the delivery

We might see more deeply

Into the maelstrom.

There must be

A message in the system

Unless it is waiting

Beyond the membrane

Do my eyelids shut things out

Or shut me in

Can I visualise a new world

From all the old songs.

A bird that sings for me

Is a thing of beauty

How will I know

If there is something

Beyond the darkness

When all of my senses

Have been dumbed down

By the pain of living in chaos.

Is it good or bad practice

To avoid direct impact

When so much detail can be lost

Skimming stones,

All the colours of a rainbow

Lie hidden in the deep,

The merest ripple

The slightest

Release in surface tension

Contains the potential

For the creation

Of something wonderful

If only we dare to perceive it.