To see an old wrinkled arm, an arched back in an ancient land,
To wait a moment, to create, to listen and to dare to understand,
To stay the red lips that would kiss, to stop the music in your heart,
Is to hear the sound that no voice sings and to act without a part,
There is the spirit of the turning key, there is the soul of the mystery,
To explain to a fellow inmate and to risk being called a liar,
Is to see with the invisible eye by the light of the invisible fire.
As the sun sets in the mind of the young and the darkness begins,
The enchantment fades and the wrists are tied together,
The gag is placed around the mouth and prisoner is lead to the gallows,
Why does he smile the people ask, What has he seen?
How are the translucent man and the transparent woman seen,
but by the light of the invisible fire.
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Author:
David Wakeling (
Offline) - Published: May 13th, 2026 00:10
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments4
Breathtaking take of that ‘light of invisible fire’ 🙏🏻🕊️
Thank you so much comrade.Much appreciated
Written with conviction.
My ancestors were convicts so I guess that where I get the conviction from.Thanks for commenting
David, this feels immense…philosophical, spiritual, and almost prophetic all at once. The poem moves like a meditation on perception itself…who sees, who refuses to see, and what it costs to speak beyond the accepted script. “The light of the invisible fire” burns through the whole piece beautifully. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thank you so much compadre.Your comments are much appreciated
Haunting and well written David it carries a powerful message
Thank mi amigo always a joy to read your comments
You are most welcome
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