Saturday, September 25, 2010

Wind Song

Wind Song

Caught through cobwebbed memory 

Falling into the calm within the storm

in enchantment

join the merriment of dancers
gliding movement
choreography, poetry,
mindful motion
poignant wisps of song
wyrding sympathies
a chance to beatifically play

where love is a whisper
from which breath expands
each to each
for a brief season

In the wind
stories, blowing, whirling
whisp purring gentle, insistent, strong
going, going wide, long, dipping below
a galaxy of whirlwind lights
blink bright, dark, invisible for a slow
millennium or so
only seen deep in night worlds
obstructed by veil, by shadow, by
"No, that can't be real."
Until a softly swaying memory
caught still in some fantastic siroco
casting about for local color
finds outlet in one needing succor
The field dances
hungrily with wind, with wild
In the eye of eternity, wise
as any child, as any wizard
myth could conceive
This One, This Master of
enchantments (believe, my kin,
believe) takes fluid stand
Takes true command
raises eyes, mind, arms
to conduct transcendent music
Sky and ground converge
lightly, in grace and supplication
make merry conversation,
soothing wild beasts from
fiery space with gentle charm
The few picked to observe, perhaps
learn to carry on these tales,
loose all sobriety,
enthralled by mighty magic
work a new reality
Ride high on dragon scales
spirits entranced

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