on the ladder

the first writing ended in madness, but for twenty years the words stayed in your head trying to find shapes that would speak. this time you return to drafts of delusion, but the draughts of delusion return you to this time. on the ladder you think of what to write, the second coming. at that precise moment the words, the music and the man meld. meaning meets you and you understand the pulse of the place, the beating of hearts, the chorus of uncertainty, the construction from nothing, the coming back to fix the temple, the houses of sticks, the clutching of straws, the building with beaks. sometimes when the writing is good and the music is too it is like you are wired. as you listen, the melody, the lyric, prompts you, supports you, sings your sentence and the breeze pushes you, gives you direction, tells you which way to go, which path to follow. the breeze breathes.

Published – ‘time’ an anthology of microfiction and prose poetry ed Cassandra Atherton. Spineless Wonders, 2018