The sky looms dark–and deeply dark

as here beneath we sit–

blots of shadow wrapped in night

and only lighting when we rise

and walk to see the flame.

–

The sheep will go where I will go

and follow comically,

brushing up against my leg,

trusting that I know the way

to lead them to the flame.

–

The fire’s bright and dances bright

a thousand colored strands

that twine their twist in colored light

like ancient tales told long ago:

a coming holy flame.

–

Starred by eyes, as stars I seek

through peels of whispish cloud

that hide the dots of fire sparks

and shroud the black and bleating night;

all shadow but our flame.

–

The shepherds speak as shepherds speak

of hardships, home, and hopes

and sometimes we philosophize

our longing by the fire’s side

as nightly burns our flame