Prelude

So, we are to tell a story at the night-fire --
I will write one in the next couple of hours for you'all,
to be read aloud to all and dear ...

mean while, a prelude

faucon
...................................................................

'tis said there are four lives
"en caravan de vie,"
or maybe more unknown to me;
but of these I have 'oft engaged,
or they know of somewhat of me in truth.

There is 'fire-close' to guard
'gainst the creeping frost of night;
to learn of simple pleasures passing,
and hear bold stories of else and been,
and you are there tonight, my friends.

Be safe in close companionship …

This night I sit in 'fringe-delight',
to observe the sharing of heart and hand,
and learn of souls and wit and mystery;
and to see the stars shiver with the ice wind
that ever passes from mountain to sea.

Ah, to listen to the space between the notes …

There are three who sit in 'out-watch';
backs against the giggling fire and warmth
soas to sustain night vision and frozen attention,
though there is no fear of stranger approach
with Alani shadows close upon the moonless ridge.

I am drawn to learn of them! …

The there are those of the 'fire-within',
isolated by choice or whimsy -- or love,
who need neither fire nor stars nor mystery
to cloak them in else but their reverie,
or feather touch upon their blushing heart.

There was a time in my youth …

Yet beyond these 'views of the night'
there is someone watching me --
patience …