Transient colors fling
amid a circle of unfolding
insect-wings, pacing
under the silent insomnia
of luminous stars.

Dipping waves of rings
aerial whispers of purple
spins, sink
into ever-mingling dyes
of purest play.

Transformed cones of speckled
white, pumice falls by sacred
rite,
as mystic creatures
maze and guide the way.

Dancing fires celestials know
a watchful sprite salutes
and shows,
the varying vanities
that hang in bluish air.

A wise man's passion,
a vain man's tale,
a sylph that warns the pitying
audience
the threats of fate;

while Themis suspends her golden
scales, weighing the wits of men,
directing pungent grains
of ash and dust
with angst and hate.