The Ruby Spires
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by Greg Barden
There, among the Ruby Spires,
I stood a-gazing toward the mist,
The Red Wind cut skin, heaven-kissed,
Far too cold for Hades' fires.
Ages and eons behind me, then,
The joys of youth were swallowed, thus,
By wormholes, ranged and turned to dust,
All for the sake of gloried men.
Such an odyssey, we crossed
Three galaxies and matter, dark,
To find this rare and conscious spark
Of Life, (tho' life is what it cost).
Though I, their peerless proxy, was,
I felt no debt to human kind,
And through that struggle there, did bind,
A union true, of alien cause.
My own, a naught-but-violent race,
Had found these creatures far from home,
And sought to then rewrite their tome,
With our corrupt and vain disgrace.
Yet before we could our ruin, spread,
This planet's unseen chaperones,
Wreaked mortal plague on us alone,
'Til naught but I was cold and dead.
Then, those sentient souls and I,
Did journey up from mountain's base,
Until we met that jagged face,
With ruby columns to the sky.
To every side but one, we saw,
For endless breadth, the crimson sphere,
The vermilion glow, both far and near,
That wondrous planet's crystal maw.
The sparkling slopes of gemstone red,
That slanted down and out of sight,
Were being swallowed by the night,
And yet, no trail had shown ahead.
Far too late to turn around,
We gave our final fate its due,
That breathtaking red, exquisite view,
That few blessed eyes had ever found.
Such astounding visions we beheld,
That far exceeded all we knew,
That held us, transfixed, to that view,
With yearning that could not be quelled.
Colors that challenged conscious thought,
With light at angles inconceived,
Iridescence otherwise not believed,
Were we not breathless, on that spot.
The misty opalescent glow,
Refracting hues beyond compare,
Prismatic sparkles here-and-there,
That danced with flakes of scarlet snow.
Rainbow shafts of glistening light,
Swirling phosphorescent sprays,
Shimmering hues in broad displays,
That flashed and faded out of sight.
Palettes and shades we'd never seen,
Reflected beams from crystal shards,
The wondrous muse of godly bards,
Presented there for us alone.
Such vistas, no words can e'er construe,
A beauty that language does not appease,
That brought us, weeping, to our knees,
And left us shaken, through-and-through.
The consuming joy that view inspired,
Was known to only us who'd trade
Our lives for the sight, that covenant made,
There among the Ruby Spires.
** For the "Fable" Poetry Contest - Nayda Ivette Negron, Sponsor **
Copyright © Greg Barden | Year Posted 2017
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