Ragged shards of majestic firelight
moving like willows in the wind
across the floor of the sheltered place
chosen only for its meaning.

They have stood here before.

Their ancestors whisper greetings;
acceptance is given to those who stand,
still in the filtered breeze
as the night lark brings in the stars,
towering figures appear against the stone,
watching over the rite that is-
they feel peace and know
it will be alright.

In the morning light they will wake,
sacrifices made to the chosen ones,
as time carries on to the next day
where they may stand
with the ancestors of old,
to speak and love,
to worship and call,
dance and sing to the moon
amongst the past to create the present.

The End

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