Day & Light

The forecasted storms did not materialize
Instead a morning of wild, phenomenal skies
Turner himself could not have painted such colours
Diaghilev himself could not have elucidated such movements

Reds as true
As the blood drawn by Spanish bullfighters
Blues as sure
As Yves Klein himself would have ground
Silvers and whites as clear and bright
As the most majestic of imagined miraculous visitations
Pinks and greys; flamboyant, calm, an immense sense of tranquility
As stillness amongst the highest of transformative energies

A sky formed from infinite layers
As if a thousand deep stage curtains
Each one rolled slightly back
To bring the one in front in view
Repeated ad infinitum
Until there, at the point of disappearance
A light, a light with all the joys of life in its luminosity
A weightless shining, an emissive source of brilliance
At the very source of brilliance

In the afternoon
On the journey home
Heading south east, looking due west
A length of cloud beyond the grasp of straight on vision
As if a carpet of crumpled white felt was hanging from the stars
An impression of damp svelte
With a shower of iridescent droplets falling
From our sky towards the mist covered ground

For those on the terra-firma
Immediately beneath
The shimmer fine lines of water
They might be heard to say
"It is no more than a shower"
Yet to me, these few miles away
It is as it may have been at the very beginning
A deliriously spectacular show
An upstaged curtain raiser to Jean Michel Jarre
With all his wondrous visual projections


A Poem from Outline Sketches and Vague Reasoning - Love Within a Drifting Mind available from Booktango by cliking anywhere on this text