Wooden Flower

Music played over tree-ridden floor.
Stars moving to four horizons,
Moving ‘round a silver moon.

Chilled air outside,
People standing in silver bowls,
Even as the man sang of smoldering fire.

Twin whirlwinds twisted on the earth.
Silent winds shook the wooden ground.
No dust was stirred,
Wind passed wind,
Passing like waves on an empty beach.

Even the air was filled with joyful noise,
A soundtrack to their lives.
Rising cadence spurred twin whirlwinds,
And brought them back
Like tacking a sail.

It was only one night.
They knew eventually that the music would stop.
Silence.

Wind carried lifted hearts into the night,
No longer noticing the frigid air.

No longer twisting and swinging alone.