David Rowbotham

All the purple myths of heaven,
Amaranth’s infinitely shining
Supremacies of smoke,
Go through my swinging lantern
To the blind side of the clock.
But I dance while dance is given.

This tunnel of time in my eyes
Began on a Wednesday morning
When August swept the stars
With the last subterranean shock
Of Westerlies in my mountain.
What white nights flared warning!

Does opening first sight send
The first dark spinning
Unlocked to its levelling end
With the rhythm of time burning?
I dance while the dance is given.
Dance fire for the eye of the raven.
If you’re blind there is no heaven.