already stars rise

when all the fires have gone at last to sleep
what we have left will be some sort of sign
between the belches of stale beer and wine
that there may be some happiness to keep
among the ones who chose to make the leap
believing that the season was divine
are those who in their wisdom might combine
the kind of energy to go down deep
within each heart we say there is a flame
that burns at different paces through the year
and gives most warmth when eyes can see most true
so much depends on saying the right name
on how the word should travel through the air
and reach the place where time must now renew
not just its purpose but the complete view
must change the wild into the truly tame
remake the dark ones into those now fair
grant wisdom fully where we would want fame
and draw the hermit out of her dank lair
to say that she regrets that she withdrew
her heart and mind from the engaging sight
of all the joy that comes on summer night