Lit Up Skies

stormThey burn, the occult moon is in its fullest splendor,

and oh how I wish for the desert to release its young,

while burning sands and vipers slide upon them to

no destination, other than to find the shade, to feel

some comfort, momentarily though it is!

The lit up skies, with meteors soaring through

the heavens, only to vanish and return again to

where they began, when the big bang threw

them off course,man awaits now its destiny,

ruin and doom foreshadows their worth.

Yet like a child I was overtaken by your beauty,

the midnight sky released it to me, you alone

knew me all along, you the goddess of heaven

cast your love through the Universe to meet me

in comet’s path cutting me off from life itself.

I felt you, your passion as the moon dimmed,

the winter solstice was about to begin, yet you

alone weaved the web of life, nobody on earth

could imagine that life beyond death existed,

but the gods gave you the power to cast a

magic spell upon us.

Like a schoolboy I saw you in your entire

splendor, I wished for nothing more than to

hold you, kiss your velvet  lips,begging you

to love me forevermore, but you vanished,

leaving me alone, and the willow was no more,

broken I was, no soul, no want to live, just to

be buried beside our dying love, our eternity

was cast, we would be together at last, bathing

in spirit and soul.

The ancients walk the moors, they build the

fires and ignite their dead in dripping ashes,

souls and spirits are but one, they knew they

were here for a short time; they loved and

died by the sword, protecting and securing

a life after death in Valhalla.

Oh let their ghosts be a reminder of whence

we came, who we were, a tough breed of warriors,

strewn across the Celtic map, a history of

wanderers, lighting fires, burning ash, leaving

our mark for all future generations, like our

world has never seen.

Firelight will shine their way, like fireflies,

they will ignite and shine a path, lead the way

and follow our ancestors to the grave, we will

love always, seeking to fulfill our ancestral rites,

the night is ours, the cold our warmth, the

animal skins our comfort, the sword our savior.

Oh sweet ancestors, let us lead by example of

who we were, and why we are here, where we

came from too, let no man question our loyalty

nor our roots, our clan, our heritage, for the

harvest moon is upon us, October fires are lit,

our souls are warmed by its mighty glow.

* * *

©2014 Vincent Moore. All rights reserved


Lit Up Skies — 7 Comments

  1. Vincent, you have created a piece that brings yearning to my soul for the likes of my ancestors. We are all still together, traveling through time, our fires all burn together. Very nice work my friend.

    • Yes indeed they do my friend, we are but just particles of dust, re-created and then blown back into the Universe to continue our journey. I often feel their presence, I know I am an old soul continuing on my journey, so never fear death dear poet, it’s just a stepping stone to another adventure through the rabbit hole.

    • Thank you Nellieanna for your keen observation, yes it certainly seems that way doesn’t it? This piece was a a reminder
      that we are just that mere mortal.

    • Thank you John, I’m happy that it drew you in and you felt part of it. Poets like us have a way of drawing our readers and followers in. Signs of true poets indeed, and sir, you are one of them as well.

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