I always fear that if I do something
I might be good at it,
Eventually. 
Or even by surprise, suddenly. 

A bolt of magic lightning
That the world is changed 
By beauty or sadness,
Where the rocks in our bloodstream 
Melt into tears
Where neighbours'  age old feuds
Burst into an exhilaration of doves,
Where sons forgive fathers
And daughters dance with mothers
And the birds stop singing for two minutes
Just to listen.
A bud inks green in time to see it happen,
While the stars turn up to eleven 
And the black night has to try harder,
And the mountains sigh as they rest
And you open your eyes
And see me.