Strange Fire

A desert road burns with dry sand,
Squall of dust billowing into storm
That will only let you go when you listen
To the distant violet of bird-song.

Then recognise the way we all go
Leads up a farm path, all at once
Real and familiar, leaving the life
We have squandered in mean-time.

Between the open church door
And a beggar stumbling in brilliant light,
Stained glass shines on the road
Like the dust of a sunrise.