O travellers from somewhere else to here,

O travellers from somewhere else to here, / Rising from Sheffield Station and Sheaf Square / To wander through the labyrinth of air. // Pause now, and let the sight of this sheer cliff / Become a priming-place which lifts you off / To speculate / What if..? / What if..? / What if..? // Cloud-shadows drag their hands across the white; / Rain prints the sudden darkness of its weight; / Sun falls and leaves the bleaching evidence of light. // Your thoughts are like this too: as fixed as words / Set down to decorate a blank facade / And yet, as words are too, all soon transferred // To greet and understand what lies ahead — / The city where your dreaming is re-paid, / The lives which wait unseen as yet, unread.