POETRY: Amethyst by Beau William Beakhouse

Galaxia (1977), Rufuno Tamayo

Beau William Beakhouse is a writer currently residing in Cardiff. Having dropped out of university in response to its systemic, limited way of teaching the arts, he now co-edits Lumin and intends to start his own creative space. He is particularly interested in metaphysics, spirituality, mystery and art, and has been published in Tŷ Celf, Quench Magazine and Porridge Magazine. 

The ferry waits in the harbour
under the setting sun.

Out on the dock
the last figures are approaching

The white lights of the shore
hurry back and forth beneath the hill

There is a white lantern beside me
It speaks to me with still and perfect brilliance

As it darkens, a tall boy sits next to me

There is light coming
from behind the hills
Tiger stripe green
in the dark blue night sky

Soon we are heading out across the bay
With the sky & the stars & the curve of the earth above us

back towards the city lights
& I notice you
noticing me & looking away
I feel compelled to speak

I can see your soul opening
& revealing amethyst crystal
The purples are so vibrant
the lines electric, the multilayered
mirrors speak truth and beauty
Angel kingdoms of sexual caress
like entering the gates of heaven

Ancient pillars meet in points of gold
Dimensions of colour in blushing cheeks
I sit in awe as it opens out of the icy air
like reflecting on myself & seeing you

But somehow, the thin divisive line
is still enough to keep us separate
The membranous film that keeps
me from you is as clear as the waves &
the approach of the shore

But the waters, oh the waters! Purple
silk ripples like velvet time
The constant unending flow of blood
Ecstatic I stare as the ferry approaches
Under diamond towers as
the final waves recede in the after glow