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Mary Poppins

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100 days of writing poems.


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We were children of light, scared of the dark huddled under our blankets of ignorance anticipating the moment when shadows would burn. We peered through slits in curtains, longing to touch the sea of wishes then falling prey to the darkness within our minds. Courage stumbled upon us as we grew, tips of toes ventured outside. The pain of a crooked neck, frostiness of a rooftop was warmed by the Acrux soothed by the grin of a crescent moon. A dawn of thoughts flourished in the dead of night. Age came with greed as arms like mountain peaks strained, limbs yearning for light-years snatching for the Jewel Box, but battered by the Coal Sack which binds us, blinds us from the dawn and demise of perpetuity. We endeavoured to create our own stars, own light that would shine as bright as those naturally gifted, in doing so all but destroying the very thing we tried to imitate. Stars withered as knowledge bloomed. Time taught us that flesh is no match for hydrogen or helium. We are but small birds beating about a cage that holds emptiness and eternity, yet we cannot see for darkness. To the universe, we are flightless. Each of us an Epsilon Crucis, so faint, so indistinct that we are not worthy of any flag. But together we can become something more. We can become our own Jewel Box a land of a long Magellanic Cloud, our own Acrux which might just be worthy of being a bright dot amidst the darkness on which a child can dream.

At the Dawn of Night


Day two! Inspired by stargazing on my roof...