The membranous wings delivered us into the gloom,
Far receded, twilight’s breath hung crystalline in the world behind,
Dragonflies passionate, seared from salamanders’ yawns.
Still in that stale ether was joy; what did I see?
The dead picked their way up the rocks to their destiny
And melted into the sky.

Their smiles and soft sighs nourished those trees
And their souls those contented clouds.
A newfound pleasure, I was the savior.
O, to have cut such a marvel
Into the graven face of history.

And my Lyra at my side.