You take centre-stage, just like that,
A sudden revolution, and there you are             before me, bringing the dawn of a new day.
Your rays caress, to give me insight
No longer Icarus, I say, striving after
With waxen wings, goodbye Ptolemy                who in a moment of pressure
Put too much stress on autonomy
And gave way to self-idolatry.
Your turn was sudden, unexpected,
Lighting my heart before I even knew
And as I walked I could not help                         but burn.


The worst demons

are the ones within.
Let me wrestle you, foe,
until you see mud
taste the dirt from the earth
and know your place;
tremble, to behold
that misshapen side
the gnarled fist
as one image merges
into another
and I perceive
myself –
panting, fearsome,
hiding from my Beowulf
as I search
for one,
solid, shaft of light.