Whilst, albeit after as well,
life emboldens the otherwise

To rise and to dance,
twirl the day away

Not a soul very likely to fall out of trance,
gallop – lose stride, prance or sidestep

Stumble, don’t wash away
merely a step from the falls

Astraddle rock, braced to race upstream
against water that gathers to lather me

Carry me back then and fro, I eventually gain sure footing,
younger – bellowing freely, louder – longer, everything newfound

There are many nights ahead,
all that are till there are no longer stars

No longer tea or cups,
nor anyone to cause a stir

Then I will feel you most,
displaced in strange orbit

A glance or a nod yet
having to do

Precipitation
a certainly

Chagall 2018

Advertisements