a call: a dance: here again: gone

she plucks on the strings
of the lapis-lined harp
fills the air
with the song of summoning

first the right hand
then the left
she plays
through long hours of darkness

and the call wells up
transforming into joy
when a slender hint of crescent
becomes the lunar form

a greater presence each night
she plays until the full
when the harp is abandoned
for dance

with a downward thrust
she stamps life into the earth
then a kick high into the air
for release

while all the time
the peak slowly passes
and black night again creeps near
to steal glory

joy turns
into a melancholy thing
the dance a confused reel
bereft of purpose

until all that remains
is an emptied husk
with a yearning desire for a song
to pluck on her harp
the summons

© Frank Prem, 2010
Another in this Series: Maketh the Man
a call: a dance: here again: gone is taken from an unpublished mythologically inspired series of poems arising from repeat exposures to the work of the late Joseph Campbell.


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