At night, you can sometimes
hear the universe stretch
its hands towards you. Listen carefully, you can hear
undecided Earth, and Fate shifting on her feet
averting her face.
It is the walking-in of a plan as you lay half awake,
an invisible wave coming towards you
Or it’s a low, almost unheard nodding of turtles as Earth
takes a deep breath and agrees.
Or, it’s that glistening bead on the ground you see only at a certain
angle of the light. You know when you will
get closer, it will be gone.
It’s like a movie you sense, not see –
a song still in the womb – its melody unseen,
a star that hid behind the bookshelf long ago,
and whose light is only now reaching you
through the chinks in the line of Non-fiction and Ethnography.
You are blind, but
for one inviolate unjust instant you bend Time,