As a sequel to yesterday’s newsletter and to finish January with two substack entries, I wanted to share a poem I wrote when I was 16. My nights hanging out at the bonfires on the ice at Hardy Pond inspired it.
What the Traveler Saw
That night the fire brightly burned
and all who stood around and laughed
about the old times
seemed to glow like embers
warm with some liquor.
And each unique snowflake that fell
represented them all
different shapes
but when together
a great comforting blanket.
Their circle formed a world,
the flame a sanctuary from the cold,
and flying sparks were members
who had gone astray.
Their friendship kindled each log they had gathered
and the smoke of the blaze, like spirits,
glazed over eyes
until they only saw this as home.
There a celestial traveler landed
as a brief halt from the weary course
and saw there many a journeyman
who had remained
never again to follow their route.
Here, too
was a pair of pale blue eyes
reflecting the firelight,
like the bright stars you want to reach out to
but seem so far away.
And a faint smile,
only observing it all
like the moonlight striving to shimmer
even through somber clouds.
So the traveler asked that one
“Does the fire possess you with its warmth?”
“Once it did,” was a soft reply
“But I have outgrown my stay
the flame no longer keeps me here
and an unfamiliar path lies ahead.”
Then turning he walked
into the dark.
But
deserted he would not be
on that long road.
Someone, even the traveler
would always be there.
And friends,
keeping his place by the undying flame.
The only change in the old times
a different light waiting for his return.
