Goddess of the Twilight
you come to me at the edge of evening
when my senses are still lit by the fading fires of the day
and show to me the frail new flowers of the stars
and give them names
of taste and scent and texture.
Beneath the orange lamps of the Fitness Park,
where monkey mothers are calling to their tired but mischievous children,
I gaze upon the deepening violet of the ocean
and its framing arm of conifers.
A forest of colourful lamps and fairy-lights are lit along the esplanade
with its plenitude of leafy, outdoor restaurants
and they call up to their cousins the stars to come and feast
besides the sea on Earth.
Goddess of the Twilight
a thousand starlings nestle in your hair,
calling to each other in astonishment at your beauty and the fragrance of their haven
until the magic spell of evening falls upon them
and they fold their heads into their wings and sleep.
Quiet lightning illuminates vast chambers of sky far out across the ocean,
beyond the glimmering lanterns of fishing ships and the barely visible
hump-backed silhouette of Cat Island.
I walk in silence amidst the heavenly temples.
