For ten long years the circle looped
And he knew for another twenty years
The circle would loop.
And he knew that he would never break the circles
And he knew this was already the end.
So he kissed the face of the evening wife
And said hello to a precipice of silence
A precipice of silence
For his twenty years of loving.
And when he looked
He saw no one there
On the path
Past the tree
Past the dog
Past the ornamental horses of green clay.
And then someone behind him said someone is coming
A thousand lonesome women are approaching
Bearing the faces of those he'd seen on the road to here.
Past the dog
Past the bird
Down this way
Past the horses of green clay.
And he heard the voices of those thousand women approaching
And behind them
A great poppy seed that shook the earth with its rumbling
Rumbling down the path of the horses of green clay. the path now before him.
And he turned around
As if to ask someone behind him
But he smelled smoke, perhaps a fire.
There was a fire behind him now.
And someone invisible answered, "Christ is coming".
And all the figures of the landscape of the future turned
To see behind them too,
Where the monster
Had stopped rolling.
And again, someone invisible said
Christ is coming.
All could see behind themselves a fire.
--A Neladoir's dream response
to a story by Tony MacGregor
(Ivan Prokopchuk, 50,000 years removed from the Celt).