Cloud Inversion by John Hanson

 

In the valley below me it is winter.

Memories of Christmas fade,

the solstice recedes further back still,

and Meltham rests silently

in a December dress of mist and mud,

under a blanket of dolphin-grey cloud.

On foot I climb ‘The Catch’;

upwards past pine and stile to ascend

further still into a world of light and colour;

a breathless, sun-kissed world of warmth

in which, God-like, I stand

above cloud, valley, and all of creation.

I have experienced nothing like this before in my life, save when,

in my own dark days,

that same sullen blanket

settles itself about my heart

to smother what light it finds within;

but now, here on this hilltop, I know,

all I ever need do is ascend.

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