blog description

Old women talk about old things: history, myth, magic and their
checkered pasts, about what changes and what does not.

Monday, July 18, 2016

Element of Fire

I wait for sunrise
Beneath the white oak.

Dew bejewels young corn,
Static pillars of fog arise
In the valley.

Morning stars fade.
Birds wake in the prescient glow.
Twilight sublimates into blue,
Ending the unfixed time.

For years I have come to bear witness,
But only in this year of heart-break
Does the full glory greet me.

Now, through a door of silence
Steps Sun,
First, a crescent of fire.

Serpentine arms flourish and glitter,
Reaching from  the horizon
To warm my heart.

I am
No longer solitary, but
Among a rejoicing multitude
In an infinite well of space and time.

A billion souls,
And mine...

Past and Present,
Quick and Dead,
All One, incandescent,
On the altar
Of Sunrise.

~~ Juliet Waldron