The Blacksmith

Glazing bright light before you
Stunning starfall surround
The blacksmith, hammer, forge and anvil
The stella-castle round.

'Where has he gone?''
You indicate, whirling your finger
In an ever-increasing circle
White beard pointed to the sky.

At the entrance, heaven-portal
We laid him to rest.
"It is our intention to erect a stone
In his honor; his contribution,
In this field, is unmatched.
Pick the strongest men!"

And all the love
And all the sadness
And all the fondest memories
We poured upon the stone.

And in its setting
As symmetrically planned
As a spiral sea-shell
We placed him in the circle
Beside the cook, facing the king
And his Queen Quinevere
and his friend and guardian Bedivere
Across from the cloth-maker
Of tents and tunics.

In his workshop,
A volcano of fire and heat,
Tirelessly, he forges weapons
Swords for great battles
Lying in great piles. "Can you see them?"

Place your hand upon the stone
Evoke intention and buried bone
In the mind's eye to reappear
For all ages.

"And each one, from the first to the last
Erected in ascending time
Towards the stars
Shall step out of his stone
Sword in hand
To tell a local hero's tale!"