Mystical dance

Evening falls
Light of day slips quietly away
Soundless this place
Finds me waiting
Watching.
Fog stretches across
Water dark with falls decay
Cool air permeates
The cloak that hides
The poet with the searching eyes.
Mist swirls faster
Forms taking shape
Twisting
Turing
Changing place.
The fairies dance
In the grand ball of air
Spinning in glee
Unaware of me.
Over and through
They ride the cloud
Small chirping
And the quietest wind
The only thing to break the silence
Of the this cosmic dance.
Higher they rise
Caught in the breeze
Like smoke from a fire
Slowly moving
Hanging
Then gone.
I sigh and rise
Watching the moment disappear
Before me,
A bit sad as I longed to join
The mystical dance
To live that magical moment of floating
Into thin air
To spin and move free
No ground keeping me still,
Just a whisper of time
Seen by only one.
They shall return again,
This is the time of year
I often find them dancing there,
Above the water dormant
Cold and unforgiving,
In the heat they will rise
They will dance
The whimsy of joy caught once more
And again I will be waiting
To give the standing ovation.

Artwork by : Johan August Malmström, Dancing Fairies (Älvalek). 1866