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Remember Us by Lelia Thomas

Fire on hills blazed so high.
So the weaving of the dancers could be seen,
Where the valleys dipped below to the deepest green—
To tell of the new year that was drawing nigh.

It was this night of celebration,
Where all remembered the old ways that were faltering–
To where the new ways were shining and the old were slowly altering.
And for this pain of loss there would be no consolation.

So the dancing was not so cheerful on this November Eve,
Even with the dancers and the harpists, the smiles faded.
Somehow, the wonderful cheer of old had been shaded.
Yet even with these things dying, tonight they would believe.

For the fires were already flaring…
The drums already playing…
For these reasons they decided on staying.
In these last few moments, there would be no time for despairing.

So on this night they would live every second as if it were their last–
Singing and dancing, and talking as friends,
For tomorrow might brush them away as wind does the sands.
And better that these memories into history be cast.

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Written in 2003. It’s easy to fall in love with modern conveniences, but what are we leaving behind? What kindred spirits are we cutting off?