A Rebirth Of Sorts At Midnight Poem by DM W

Okay my friend I'll compose a poem
In the brief hours before darkness falls.
I will paint a vivid picture of life reborn.
Hopefully, it will reflect the former radiance
Of an age that's been gradually rusted
By crude contemporaneous concerns.

The clocks will turn silent
At that interminable moment,
When what you consider to be
implacable emptiness & icy despair
will be transformed In the twinkling
Of an eye into teeming, holy vision.

O you'll learn to weave light
Into the fabric of your being.
You'll allow red needle suns, in peregrine flight,
To burst the obscene, obese balloon of now.
You'll watch it explode into a million fragments
And then see the violets of hope scatter,
And the universe explode with laughter.
In this new moment -the ghosts of longing
Will be released from the machinery of night
You will be lost in their enchantments.