For the Word
by Geoffrey Heptonstall

A key unlocks the night
with a turn of phrase for the sunrise.
The sky is cool and colourless,
a space waiting to be written.
The first line casts its shadow.
Fingers follow the signs of life.
Sense appears with breathless haste
in the urgency of saving what remains
in love’s modicum of relief.
The days are long in their explanation.

Everyone pays homage to the word
in many guises, all resembling
the essential reverence
for the word he finds so meaningful
going down to the foundation of self.
She guides his mind through every choice.
Sense of a kind emerges, believing
all he has to say of what he sees …
Or so it will be inscribed.
He falls for the word every time.



 

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