The Day We Talk Poem by jim hogg

Some kind of lightning will occur
in several places all at once;
the seas will stir, and fish will surge,
so raptly from the deeps of us.

Old enemies will make their peace,
in towns awash with sudden light,
and aging couples in the street
will fondly hold each other tight.

A little blaze will dance and swoon,
and colours charge the atmosphere.
Our worlds will split like ripened fruit,
and thrill will peel away the years.

Or maybe only worldly things,
quite deaf to all we have to say -
like soft, determined leaves of spring,
or crystal webs of falling flakes -

will populate the common day.
While little birds of meaning pierce
the weavings of sly vanity,
the brittle shells of years and fears,

and armed with only sparks of light,
connect the world, ignite the strands,
and sill to sill, make daring flights,
into each other's hinterlands.