Change me

Twilight dies, as day switches

With night, and

I’m left staring at my bedroom

Wall, wondering how the next

Day will arrange itself –

I wish this boring lump of

Lunar rock would hurry

Up, and trade places

With its better half

But that’s not likely to happen any

Time soon, so I’d better take

Control –

I’m no general, but I have some

Strategies to fast forward

Success; I would


Click my fingers and

All of the lights would

Burst into flame; and

Burning filaments wouldn’t be the

Only thing to flood

The space


Before me – in the throes

Of impatience, broken

Dreams would be swept

Under the carpet, making


Room for bright, shining plans, new



Barely pausing

For breath, I’d


Tear up the familiar

Rugs beneath my feet –

Who cares for tradition anyway? With a

New, panelled, wooden

Floor, earlier failures would

Be easier to forget


But the memory of trees is

Not so easily undone

By the hasty spring clean of an

Uncertain son


The death of a beloved

Servant is precious

To him: so while I

Moan, he’s not waiting for

Anything to click


Running and jumping

Like flashes of lightning, his

Intentions are far less

Frightening: as

I waste time searching and



Below my horizon,

Genius is shining


Inspiration so brilliant, it’s

Worth the wait; so

Much better than an idea, he’s

Waiting to read the words between

The lines, for me

To stumble across the reasons



He was

Building something beautiful

While I was messing with

Mud bricks


Light rises

It can’t be

Compared to forest fires

Or stars, or



This is what remains to

Lead my thoughts in the night

It’s annoying

That I can’t change which

Way it turns; but it can

Change me.


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