Spidery webs across the page
I look up and you are gone again
A ball of light is all that remains
Save the light of a conductors baton
all is darkness without pattern
That ball of light leaving lightning streaks
used to illustrate our metaphorics
writing in the language of gods
we wept together against all odds
and made our mark on a land of sods
the cobwebs are bare and glistening
and I know that you are listening
to the sounds of old made new and christened
by the hands of god good is made
and ready are the arms graciously saved
Perhaps one day we will meet again
and preciously guard our love token
Until then fear not for we are saved
by our brethren in these cold cold days
lift up your spirits and behold
the rites of passage from infirm to gold
Copyright Andrew Watkins 2019
