Interlude. by Mark Lloyd
by Mark Lloyd
Weeks of sounding out
to seek any hint of light,
to lift the relentless shroud
for a glimpse of the possible.
Safely rayless the rule
all fault to be seized
to revert to the safety of the script.
We drive him, with vague assurance,
no place for consent,
just repeated tales to quieten.
To the unknown, gated where fear prevails in all,
soothing words sound hollow
where wishing flight grows stronger.
Retreat from the pitch of chairs
and a nervy clash to the border
where whispered words may be spoken.
His coat retained, a tea untouched
we launch smiles to fake the normal.
A bubble of chat and greetings,
the host instructs
but to no end for him.
Confused, his pleading eyes pierce
at the opening notes,
echoed in our glance
Resolve surrenders as seeless eyes
match trembling mouth,
all harmony vanquished at the resolution
A familiar refrain strikes up
to pause our flight,
older than those present but
gifted down the years.
The beat tapped out by feet and hands,
a glint of light in inky eyes
and then, his hands spread wide ……..
directing the dawning choir
he now sees for the first time.
Unclouded, his face ablaze
he mouths his words in time,
he shares and casts his joy
and greets familiar rhymes.
Our tears release our fears
as the chorus crests,
applause echoes and fades,
an interlude in the ebbing dusk.