Posted: December 23, 2015 in Chat
Tags: , ,

Every time you turned the street turned with you:
the languages, distractions, sales, and somewhere
a street band. You turned and the current flowed
around you, through you; kept moving. The window display
was there for you. Streets of bodies eddying, surged.

You still felt their tug in a doorway. Turned, and
lifted away; it fell from you. You rose
quickly and above it all; shop lights far below.
Rose past cornices, pigeon spikes, to colder air;
the smells of fast food, music, muting.

A sudden panic; the city lights indistinguishable –
you were rising faster, ‘How will I breathe?’
Higher, higher to break through to sudden
openness, emptiness,
and strung there
were huge chains of lives, channelled
across darkness — people connected, singly,
as far as sight was possible.

A policemen next to you, his difficult face;
the barrista who snubbed you, the shop assistant
who had seemed distant,  all there together,
connecting.  And listening revealed
high tones, metallic, different timbres. The planets,
ringing in the openness.

Linked lines of lives stretched from planet
to planet and the sun’s radiance. All connected,
attuned  to a vast, opening sense
of awareness, completion.



  1. It would be great to read this with Edith Piaf’s “La Foule” playing in the background. In fact, I’ve just done it! Tremendous!

    • Thanks you.
      Must admit I did not know this song. Do now. More jaunty than I’d have wanted, but, why not.
      My French is so bad that I have no idea what she sings about.
      Do wish I could trill my ‘r’s like that, though! That’d be worth something!

  2. Scottish Author and Poet Kirsty Grant says:

    I loved this poem, insightful and deeply connected to life

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