Stonehenge
Rays of
golden sunlight,
Burn the
memory of rain.
Merlin’s
breath creeps forward,
Across the
Salisbury Plain.
The warming
light grows stronger,
On this
magical summer morn,
To brush the
long-gone footsteps,
Druid born.
The land it
drinks the silence,
Before the
crowds amass.
One halcyon
moment beckons,
Future?
Present? Past?
All as one
in this tribal beat.
As the sun
cuts through the bluestone,
Shadows
dancing silently,
In the
growing morning heat.
Sarsen and
shadow,
Secrets to
bestow,
Myth and
magic,
Poetic,
enigmatic.
The only
living witness,
Rises higher
in the sky,
Unable to
speak her tale,
To agree or
to deny.
Still, she
shines on regardless,
Peering
through the sandstone door,
As the
footsteps of long-gone magic,
Echo to the
grassy floor.
So as the
golden sunlight,
Welcomes the
hanging stones again,
And Merlin’s
breath has vanished,
Across the
Salisbury Plain,
The day
begins anew,
As it did
five thousand years hence,
With the
sun.
The Witness,
And shadows,
That lay
history to rest.
written by Emma Thacker, hear Emma reading the poem to music here: https://youtu.be/j2UPwqRCQRA
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