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Collective dreams take shape
Converging in an annual pulse,
A sanctuary tangled in a storm
A conversation of art
Conducted in dust
thick with material divinity
Lambent totems sway
arcane tattoos swirl
Vibrant beats blend with rhythmic colors
on winds that dance with festive fervor
Local gophers tremble
As the earth quivers
With thunderous bass
Selves are lost
And selves are found
Uniformly unique,
Each person there looks like your friend
And, when you meet them,
they likely will become just that
The kaleidoscope of
sensorial celebration doesn’t abate
until bedraggled forms slink back to beleaguered encampments
in the predawn Monday light.
The show burns strong and bright
Yet for all such stylish spectacle,
Our friends are the spark
Of Lightning in the dark
