The gods met up to decide your fate first
they made their decision through the “rosy-fingered dawn”
the wind was young and they sat on the broken spells of rain
a dozen owners of the stars
throw down their signals,
an inter-wind of eagles to see if you’d notice
the new windows high up in the hills
the new thousand years of tree room
made like shaking trains far in your childhood
for you to roam and leave the cold streets
for you to imagine the end of the sky
and the school you will one day leave.
To see if you would notice me
walking coatless into the flowered womb of ghosts by our bed.
The night continues to note down the morning dawn
it breaks slowly its hands gentle like a smile
ragged with blue ornaments from a mountain seascape,
the light is egoless at this hour
it is in a state of meditation
it rows pulling light like a guardian
it is a woman and man
it is the quest of prayer-wheels
giving the light the latency of light.
You're fast asleep beside me rafting with the tides
you have your own birds of the sky hallowing you unbonded
but the birds inside of me have not stopped
flapping their towering wings in twos
a river in the womb of a river, another mediterranean.
Athena stayed behind like a statue
in the darkness holding the torch light towards Troy
remembering the honour of peace
remembering the hour of waking
remembering the bureaucracy of tears
the heavens remain unimpressed
their only job— biographers of the light
a freezer tray to the sky
where all golden light come to die
and live in between the voices
a postcard to the church.
And you're now awake and everything is settled and you say
“I can feel it, it’s alive.”
Commissioned for National Poetry Library's Open Day 2018 on the theme of 'Odysseys'. Part of London Literature Festival.