The Dance and the Flame

Night and day, these coeval foe-friends,
meet as equals again: a balanced promise
of fire and light and life.
Ritual is a kind knowledge this hour,
forbidding the cruelty of ignorance,
suspending the certainty of reversal
when day and night are leveled again.
It is the cyclical pavane of the orbs,
agnostic in its meticulous precision,
begging to be punctuated in hope and love
and gentle remembrance.
The ancient observance invites us to see
that we are the stuff of stars and more:
the cosmic dust knowing itself.

• • •

Image credit: Pran Thiramethanon (adapted from source)

Father, son, husband, friend and writer by day; asleep by night. Happily pondering the immortality of the crab wherever words are shared.

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