In the valley where the night sleeps
and its hearts ( for it has many )
You are sightless yet you see and you can hear the timeless spaces lined within familiar faces, feel the shadows on the outside trying to open up your insides, you catch a glimpse of something greater in the corners of your eyes.
and as the bedrock begins to fall apart
making patterns on each beating heart
you start to wake,
as the dreams subside, eyes open wide, you see and yet you’re sightless.
I sit to watch the replay
relayed through silent movies
on a silvered glass piano
where someone made notations
using Einstein’s old equations
and I realise that I’m not woke at all
© 2020, John Smallshaw.