Poem 134: Is This all it Takes

your eyes were opened
in a moment
in the twinkling of which
the blinds were raised
and my blindness healed
running from this temple
of gold and archaic shadows
to the streets of dust
and white heat.

you smiled at
my capering madness
as the light came
roaring through my head
exploding my finely
wrought defences
of intelligent fencing,
all wit and dead eyed smiling.
stumbling a practised beggary
that would steal
from children their love,
when it could and would,
when they were not looking.

tell no man of this,
you said
(but is this all it takes)
love, the earth,
sweet spit
and we slowly turning on it
against this blinding sun,
turning until the sun goes down,
and mercifully for me,
you close your eyes and sleep.