Groove Camp

There was a moment when,
Nestled within the gossamer threshold,
The realms of magic and mundane collided.

At first one soul, and then
Many steps; trepidatious and bold,
The stuck silt of the city subsided.

A sound, a rhythm, a melody,
The world was created in music and love,
People ebbed and flowed, as once the tide did.

We danced in the mote of a memory,
We are such stuff as dreams are made on;
One dream and community, no more divided.

There was a moment when –
– and there will be again –
This host of beasts, critters and elves
Were wholly and totally one and themselves,
And we drank to the dark,
To the spirit and spark,
And all,
And all it provided.