Like a moon lit up as lord of the night;
like an autumn tree, while its brittle leaves
hold blaze … seen, yet hidden, hosts of light ...
If given glories didn't make us thieves ...
if the taste of grace and some mind-plucked insights
didn't entice a starving self-belief
to gobble ... Light possessed consumes like fire.
So shine through the cold of your desert dark;
wake up soulful. Don’t die lazy. Drag desire
from its stretcher, make it cough up its sparks
and smoke – there are tracks in that heat
that lead back from clamour and glare. Here your life
can turn, to span the canyons of heart. Warm feet,
glad earth. Your measureless steps. Your dusty love.