Solstice

Come with me tonight,
This brief night,
We take the old track,
Gather nine kinds of wood,

And on the hill,
Build a summer’s fire,
Then torches flaming,
Holding hands,

We walk the boundaries ,
Of our summer field, 
Trailing garlands,
Of night-scented stock and wisteria,

We watch the moon,
Cross the cloudless sky,
Quietly play her supporting role,
Embers hold us in their glow,

As we wait...
Eyes Eastward,
Beyond the volcanoes,
And then....

A surgical needle of light,
Pierces the sky,
And bleaches the scene,
The olive tree...

Centre stage,
Backlit and sparkling,
As the blaze catches,
And the day ignites,

The dew shimmers,
The sun is in her stride,
She takes on houses,
Wrenches the shutters,

Climbs through the windows,
Hauls back the curtains,
Summers her voice with scales,
Until she’s singing in full bel canto ,

Her bright song breaks open the day.