At the gate of the year

Has it always been here?

This waltz on the edge of Life and Death
Cheek to cheek, inexorably linked
Like a straw bed awaiting a new arrival.

The sharp cold of political nights draws a ragged wet blanket

Around the confusion of life’s meanderings
And under a raging sun the rockets rain down
In retaliation for incongruous opinions.

The passionate rhythms of age old dalliances

Ride over the waves of mere humanity
And from afar the peel of the call to arms
Glistens from the corner of the eye of Horus.

Here again at the gate of the year

The past storms the barricades in days of wrath
Where little will be gained and the ever present threat
Of unrest succumbs to the prevailing winds
Of a past revisited and a tentative future.

Copyright Robert Law January 2009