By Andrew M. Bowen
Stars glittered like a billion rings,
deep snow and silence cloaked the terrain,
ghosts swiftly flew on silent wing
as Ris dey Kaals awoke.
First stepping on the swaying, whisp’ring trees,
a hub without a spoke,
the Moon climbed past the Hunter’s Beasts
and tugged the reins of Arthur’s Wain.
Midnight, a silver hush, awaited
one bold and loving stroke.
The Moon surveyed the galaxies star-plaited
and Ris dey Kaals then spoke:
“Most holy hour at last arrived,
when silv’ry night is purest gold,
let Law’s sedate, eternal hold
over starry orbs be broke.
“Let dearest wonders and enchantments thrive,
let joy become uncloaked
begin celestial dancing –
the stars’ slow waltz, Moon’s proud prancing,
“with time for thought, time for romancing,
and not one beggar broke.
Let men and stars pass night’s tramp a-dancing
in one mad, cosmic joke.”
And in sweet dance the universe did spend the night;
even cruel, mocking gods did marvel at the sight.
Andrew M. Bowen works as a sportswriter in Greene County, IN. He has published about 80 poems, mostly in on-line journals, and recently submitted his first two novels for publication. He is also an actor who has appeared in nine independent films, seven stage productions, and two radio teleplays.
Featured image via mwewering, Pixabay, CC0