Planets

by Panos Panagiotopoulos

There is a great fire,
a great fire in the desert
and animals gather on the dunes,
watching it from afar.

We converge around it,
oblivious to the eyes on the dunes lying in the distance,
oblivious to the ever-changing landscape around us.
We dance in homocentric circles, our faces painted red
by the fiery glow, wet faces painted red,
flames claiming the glistening surface of tears on our cheeks.

Coming from all directions,
we meet where the flames are high,
bearing no names,
no identity.
The past is an unnecessary burden,
so our feet go deep in the sand wherever we walk
but we bear no names for others.

Tears on our cheeks as we dance around our sun,
flames read our names to ourselves as they graze
our faces, turning them into steam, forming clouds.
Still, no redemption for the past; there is no need for that.
Future is the need that we have. We need a Future.
And time;

time is animals gathering on dunes to watch planets
orbiting the great fire in the distance.
Each of us, a planet of memories and words buried
in the ever-changing landscape of the desert
in our hearts.