Nearly gone now,

The paltry gods of arrogance,

Their feet fallen

Down the darkened slips of nevermore.

Now soon

At last (as long, so long, before)

In the crystal hour of reckoning

The petals of the sky will open and unfold

Many a shimmering ring

Of blue mist, where the sun catches

Strands of dawn, while the gold dragon stretches,

Uncoiling flaming scales.

Then winged deer will fly again on the crest of the rainbow;

The hawk will circle cliff-towers

In the high winds of freedom;

Grass will laugh in the rainshowers;

Forests will sing

The mysteries of sun and snow

The pines and the rocks will recall fleetfooted tales

Of fairyfolk.  Then the earth will awaken

Into a radiance

Of wildflowers,

And the mouse will remember all the wisdom

Of silver moons that waxed and waned,

Of dew-bright meadows now, at last, regained.

 

Written sometime around 1996

Photo: Aliaksandr Vaitsekhovich / Dreamstime.com