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Flashpoint 

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A thousand eyes will staring see

the flicker flame of gold,

and in that instant, truth revealed,

the shadows will unfold.

Across the leaping chasms

far beyond the deeper stream,

the free things race on blindly

and the fettered prisoners dream.

The knowing hide their wonder

and the wise can never tell,

but the ignorant are happy

for they have never glimpsed the hell.

The thousand eyes watch silent

cursing sounds they cannot change,

but the shadows still grow longer

to confuse and rearrange.

So run up quickly to the hilltops

and look beyond the dawn,

then rip down those rash decisions

or the children will be torn.

You have to see the shining promise

hidden by the dust of time,

and blow aside the cloud confusion

wafting fast across the fire.

Ten thousand eyes will suffer

and a million more may die

seeing blindly, for an instant,

in regret and heat and fire.

And flaming terror will be screaming

as the people clutch for why,

and endless visions will be shattered

and reflected through the sky.

But empty towers will glitter smugly

in the deadly light of day,

arising gutted from the ashes, rusting gradually

away.

Empty towersV2-LR.jpg

© Vanda Carter 

This poem 'Flashpoint' was first published in the anthology “Eve Before the Holocaust”  in 1984.

My sculpture 'Empty Towers'  appeared in 1914.

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