Darkdance
Beneath the trees, the rich music, the song,
Rises in cloudless notes, as the night long.
The notes trill and linger, hesitate and glide,
Wind themselves into the trees to hide,
Lift toward the stars and fall to the ground.
The stars and the soul with music abound,
With forgotten joy and with joyous sound.

Shadows moving, spinning, turning with such grace
Such as cannot be found in the sun's face.
Spinning, spinning, the trees turning like moons
About the world of the dancers and tune.
Moving, moving feet not missing the pace,
Weaving the dance through the forest like lace,
Until the trees awaken, there in that place.

Starshine raining, pouring, gleaming,
To the ground in endless rivers streaming.
A flash of lightning, of blue-white starfire,
And the dancers shine forth like the heart of a pyre.
Their dark skin drinks the light as their feet the dance,
Their pale hair nets the stars as their movements chance,
Their silver eyes the death's gleam that rides on a lance.

Dancing like gusts of wind-blown bird-down,
Dancing with only the wind for a gown,
Dancing in the place where life mingles with death,
Dancing in the place where dance becomes breath,
Dancing to music long forgotten, and unheard,
Dancing to the laughter of some joyous night-bird,
Dancing to the lure of their blood, to magic's word.

One ring of leaping, whirling, cavorting dancers,
One moment where someone not fey might look for answers,
One moment when all that flies halts to listen,
One moment when overhead the stars glisten,
One moment when the dancers raise their joined hands,
One moment when the starfire illumines the dark lands,
One end when the dance into silence commands.