This poem is about being gently, beautifully summoned—by love, art, destiny, or mortality itself—and choosing not to resist. It’s a whisper rather than a scream. A quiet readiness to follow the fire before it goes out.
(A lone voice whispers)
Sometimes under the bright gaze of cosmic starlight.
I feel you creeping like a lone shadow slowly into my sight.
Bright and gloriously burning like early November fires.
That old remembered desire never retires or expires.
Your aura appears, singing and skipping along.
Singing a strange new song. Saying I should hurry and come along.
So here I am. Waiting to follow, like a lone oracle, into a new golden temple of Apollo.
So, oh shadow slowly creeping into sight.
Burning bright like early November fires.
Does thou know when my earthly time expires?
(C) Copyright John Duffy
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