The misty firmament above in the hours before the rising sun,
Swirls patterns deeply etched into the grey sky,
Windy realm of night with its soaring echoes,
A play of wind, clouds and dancing moonlight,
The spirits of the ages play, spread across the invincible night,
They play unseen, yet fill the Arcadian meadows with their presence,
To the wind, they vow a burning promise,
To the night, their unquenchable energies,
In the windy sea sky, adrift with misty cloud schooners,
The season of the Solstice sweeps her glowing gown,
Drawn by oceanic breezes,
Her midnight tempest spawns vaporous clouds across the gloomy moors,
Her Druid song haunting the moonlit fields,
This swirling mirth of darkness strips the tired senses spellbound in these seasons of the night.
Some years ago I used to read my poems at Stone Poetry in Cambridge, MA. When I read this one, they made a video of it. Hope you like.