FIREFLIES

My hair flows in the wind
Blue fireflies dance
above my heart's darkening meadow

Be not saddened by a sudden change in balmy weather
the rising sun illuminates life's colors
into innumerable fractal fragrances

while the wind skitters, shifts, and races
its many moods and faces revealing

My ears in the quiet solitude listen for the melody only the heart can hear

The rhythm of life
Every leaf that falls from the tree
is a spirit in the wind now free from pain and sorrow

We are as one, seeking not fortune nor fame,
a simple gathering, the joy of little victories,
and our innocent ecstasy with each impasse conquered

The hushed, poetic soliliquoy of being is measured by silent heartbeats,
life's metronome, it's cadence.
Hearing them is more than listening.

So we dance quite untouched
while the establishment burns
supple, fluid, and flowing like the wind, itself, we dance

to the west, the sun slowly drops away.
slowly.
silently.
without fanfare.

to the east, her sister, moon, rises.
slowly.
silently.
without fanfare.

as the blue light takes over the yellow, the stars appear.
slowly.
one by one.
without fanfare.

their glow beckons us to the sky,

to the north,

to the shimmering green lights of the aurora.

we dance quite untouched
while the stars burn
and the shimmering green curtain of the north moves

dancing.

supple

fluid

and flowing like the wind itself.

we dance with the lights of the north

and its cousin, the wind.

the flickering stars keep time, matching heartbeats and glittering like celestial cymbals.

the shimmering curtain of green light in the north is now the metronome.

pulsing.

moving.

undulating.

setting the time signatures of our dance

our lives.

and we

we dance

the dance of life

the dance of love

the dance of the universe.
the dance of creation itself.

and we ask in wonder
"what comes next?"

______________________________
1) Kevin R Schmidt began the Village Poem #4 by suggesting "y'all should add one or two lines, let someone else add another few lines and so on ..." He then gave the first line, on 10/13/07.

2) After enjoying 8 stanzas of delicate and thoughtful expression the poem seemed to stop, but none agreed it was finished. Tom Vincent suddenly took hold of the poem, altered the two-line premise, and finished the piece in a sudden flash of true inspiration on 10/18/'07.

Writers: Kevin, Ethel, Don A., Tim O., Ray, Terry G., Ron S., Tom V.