When Wind & Fire Dance

Oh, the fire,

Oh, the flame,

Always vicious,

Never tame.

Oh, the wind,

Oh, the breeze,

Never caught,

Never seized.

The fire is a lion, fierce and proud,

His mane a cloak of smokey cloud.

The wind is a stallion, swift and fair,

His pelt a mass of storm-gray hair.

The roaring fire, leaping, burning,

The prancing wind, racing, turning.

Together they make a fearsome pair,

The hot inferno and the moving air.

Come if you can, I dare you now,

And meet the dancers brow-to-brow!

Dance for a while, then break away,

Lest the writhing rhythms turn you fey!

The lords of summer, the grinning fires,

Sing songs of hunting, blades, and pyres.

The queens of autumn, the stately zephyrs,

Sing songs of freedom, glades, and spires.

O whistling wind and crackling fire!

The pit is deep, but the peak is higher! 

Dance and merge, leap and soar,

For the endless song, forever more!

The dance goes on, the wild tale,

Of the blazing flame and the rising gale.

And I must join, compelled am I,

To dance with them, beneath the sky.