Blazing torches in the far northern skies,
From tribes of giants invisible in disguise,
Looking for a place to settle down and rest,
From cold darkened caves on a steady quest.
They storm the skies with their fires burning,
Part the clouds with their hot winds churning,
Strip the meadows of their winter garments,
And command the roses to release their scents.
They perform their rites and dance thru’ the day,
Then sleep with the earth ‘til the dark goes away,
Then light up their torches as the new day begins,
And praise the seasons with sanctifying hymns.
“Rise up, thou sunken emeralds of the earth.
Look up toward heaven and remember thy birth.”

Autres oeuvres par Robert L. Martin...