-
- Union
- A fine,
yellow light
- weaves
and turns and twists --
- flickering
its way through the bramble.
- From deep
in the wood it comes to my eye
- so I
follow.
-
- I am led
to its source
- and shown
a small clearing where a warm fire crackles,
- brightening
the feet of two dancers.
-
- They
dance alone in the night
- arms
outstretched, tip-toed and cautious
- to that
which only they can hear.
-
- They
circle the flame, opposing each other
- draw
close, then retreat back again.
-
- I spy,
unseen, on the forms of the dancers,
- observing
a mystery of life.
-
- They are
in union, though apart, seeking warmth in the
light
- yet
afraid to be scorched, so they circle.
-
- The magic
of their dance gives life to the fire
- it grows
with each revolution.
-
- Their
muted footsteps quicken as the circle shrinks
tighter
- Their
shadows reach high in the darkness.
-
- They meet
in the center
- incandescent,
transparent
- their
union complete, their agony unmerciful.
-
- I gaze in
wonder as they become the fire.
- I know
their pain, I hear their muffled cries.
-
- I see
their souls escape them,
- taken
aloft in the cinders to soar eternally.
-
- I'm left
alone in the clearing of the darkening wood,
- as the
fire cools and the evening deepens,
- I return
to the warmth of my hearth.
-
- I see
their faces in the flames before me
- and hear
the echoes of their dance in my soul.
- I rejoice
in their union --
- rejoice
and await a dance of my own.
|
