There must be something
called transparent time,
whose segmenting and segments
slip through the world's fingers
and settles in hearts;
moments that stutter
unrehearsed words that surprise lips
and call for a gathering
among pages
that refuse book-marking.
there must be, i believe,
night-blue textures
awaiting stardust sprinkling,
a little magic that makes
these colourless time-slivers
visible.
now and then.
whose segmenting and segments
slip through the world's fingers
and settles in hearts;
moments that stutter
unrehearsed words that surprise lips
and call for a gathering
among pages
that refuse book-marking.
there must be, i believe,
night-blue textures
awaiting stardust sprinkling,
a little magic that makes
these colourless time-slivers
visible.
now and then.
[From the collection 'The Underside of Silence', shortlisted for the Gratiaen Award 2009]
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