Fire On The Wing

The park is filled with children tonight. 
The very air is alive with light;
bits of it separating; sparkling -
darting here and there erratically.
The younglings came prepared.
Running to and fro with boundless energy,
armed with open wide-mouthed containers,
they seek their elusive prey.
Later on, 
one drowsy but content little boy
rides back home
clutching his prize.
In the small bedroom
surrounded by 
an accumulation of childhood treasures
sits a glass jar.
It is natures night light,
flickering in the dimness.
Tomorrow the contents of the jar
will be set free
to hide away
until nightfall
when they will 
light the night once more.

© Ellie Maziekien
071502

	516. Untitled - July 15, 2002

	Every light becomes a dream
	freed from the confines
	of the mind.
	
	A wild dance in the darkest of hours,
	where the stars are hazy
	in the moonlit sky,
	becomes a reflection
	of the effervescent moment -
	of a million creatures
	in tune with life around them,
	and dancing because they can.

	The cloud of fireflies
	surrounds everything,
	sharing illumination
	with the night.

	This captured light
	becomes a hopeful dream
	of a child sleeping away,
	remembering the moment
	where joy and laughter
	came alive once more.

Imagination

As we grow
in maturity and responsibility
we lose that capacity 
to dance in tune with life,
to run, exuberant, through our days
and sleep contentedly through the nights.
Babies smile because 
they come into the world
all knowing and wise.
Imagination takes the place
of that inborn knowledge 
so each new experience is filled with wonder
and a cloud of fireflies becomes
a swirl of earthbound starlight.
The captured light 
warms a place in each of us
reminding us to recall
the delight we felt
in the everyday pleasure of shared laughter;
the joy of being alive.

© Ellie Maziekien
071502

	517. Untitled - July 15, 2002

	It's the lifebeat of nature
	that beckons us to dance;
	to find the joy 
	that would give us
	more laughter.

	The sweetest of babes
	find pleasure in life,
	for all the simplicity
	that is seen.

	It's only as we grow,
	"older" and "wiser"
	that we gradually lose
	sight of what's importance,
	and focus too often
	on what should be
	and isn't.

	Only on the evenings
	where the night skies are clear
	can we lie back
	and dream of what is,
	counting the stars
	and playing amongst
	the junebugs
	until we remember back
	to life as it once was.

Threshold

The lifebeat pulsates
without and within;
the music beckons;
should we join in -
Won’t everyone be staring us?
What if we don’t know the right steps?
What if we look foolish?
Older but no wiser
we hesitate on the threshold,
uncertain; 
much too often
we listen to the voice inside our head
warning us to be careful, 
admonishing us to act our age,
chiding us to be dignified,
so we sit on the sidelines -
just watching.
Listen instead  to the voice inside your heart.
Dance!
until, pleasantly sleepy,
you lie back, count the stars
and dream of castles in the sky.

© Ellie Maziekien
071502

	518. Untitled - July 15, 2002

	As the drumbeats sound,
	and the lights flash away,
	the sudden beats of bass
	draw from within
	this urge
	to match moments
	with a hidden song
	and a forgotten song.

	Ancient steps
	around a sun stone
	remind us
	of the times
	where wisdom came with age,
	and fools
	weren't just those young at heart,
	but those blind
	to the ways of the world.

	It's a struggle
	between heart and soul
	where the voices of one
	clash against the needs 
	of the other
	until all that is heard
	is a noise
	overpowering the song,
	enveloping the notes
	with chaos.
	
	The frenzy is played out
	again and again
	on the dancefloor
	where the only thing
	separating this moment
	from the next
	is the energetic flailing
	of limbs
	against the timed beat
	heard.

	Slowly,
	the heat from pressed bodies
	overwhelms everything else
	until the scene fades
	like a dream,
	leaving only
	the reality
	that the dance is over
	and the lights have faded
	into daylight.

Dawn

it is in passing from the darkness
into the light of day
that we see clearly.
reality lies
in what we have inherited
from those
who came before .
their song resounds.


daylight follows night
as surely as old age follows youth.
Life begets death which,
in its turn,
gives way to birth;
to renewal.

hearts and souls thrive
on the interaction
between the
past and the present -
master and apprentice,
fantasy and fact.
we learn through living.

the dance goes on.

© Ellie Maziekien
071502

	519. Untitled - July 15, 2002

	The most beautiful times
	in life
	are at dawn and dusk
	where the boundaries blur
	and the veil between worlds
	fades for that passing.

	The retreating of moonlight
	against the dusky pinks of
	a sunrise
	are mirrored by the 
	brilliant orange hues
	that give way
	to inky darkness.

	In a never ending cycle
	of light and dark,
	there is no real separation
	between the past 
	and the present,
	nor between the
	imagined and the real,
	until everything blurs
	into a fantasy once lived.