Old Lights ------------ I park beside a gate The engine pings and ticks I sling my pack and climb The path is grit and sticks Alone, I face the night Atop this dark, bare hill The pines breathe out their spice And every branch hangs still The air is cold and thin I let the old lights in The sky is thick with stars Above my tilted head In white and topaz seeds And some, a misty red Ten thousand pulses drum Inside their hearts of fire That ages cannot fray Nor time itself can tire The air is cold and thin I let the old lights in Up heaven's curving dome As on a mountainside I watch the columns march With slow, unhurried stride I stand, and know that I Am honored, small -- But a witness Of such majesty. The air is cold and thin I let the old lights in --- "Old Lights" Copyright © 2026 Rick n' Stolti. All rights reserved. [email protected]
