The first row of light
is God
in the morning sun.
Darkness
flows down
the moon mouth
like a glass of water
swallowed by a mask.

The mask is dead
long live the mask.

Clap hands
for the rose
on the table.
A stick
that found its voice
in colours singing
out across the invisible air.
A silent perfume
that narrows the gap
of separation
between us.

---

Michael Rohan
Positive Australia
mobile 0412281862
email positive@thehub.com.au
http://www.thehub.com.au/~positive