And it wasn't 
Your wings
That made me
Wonder
Or the strange way
You held 
Your hands
It was your 
Eyes
Staring
At odd angles
Almost as if 
You didn't know
Which way 
To look
First
And I wonder
Whether
That was a slip
Of the artist's
Hand
Or whether 
It was something 
Else
After all
If you were 
Sent down
And if there
Was
An up 
Maybe that's 
The way 
You have to 
Watch 
To keep your 
Eyes
On things
So to speak
Because 
Un-graven image
Or not
If no one else
Is looking out
To see
Whilst the waves
Crash
And the light-house 
Burns
Who will guide us
Safely home
Amongst the rocks
And the perilous
Journey
On which we all
Must sail
Before
The break
Of
Dawn