Do we all linger?

Are most of us merely

The lesser spirits of lesser streams

Dull glint

In a droplet of rain

A leaf’s faint tremble.

Such fleeting shadows

Make no impression

Gain no purchase

Not like the others.

The rage of ages

Flashes their clouds

Folds hands in supplication

Stronger seams stand up

In the swelling endless.

Neither fear nor favour

Are ours to grant.

Unknown, unknowing

Fragments of a onetime

Never wholly here

Our worship unworthy

Memories scatter

Below the horizon.

Passive ghosts less well parted

Slide shy round stronger

Anchored points

Timid wraiths, tenacious

Ablink in the midnight

Slipping past the gods.

© Stephanie Saulter 2012