I have no great pretensions as a poet, but this rather eclectic spiritual reflection was triggered a while back by the sight (on TV) of mid-summer pilgrims to Stonehenge overlooked by ranks of megaliths on the one side and Britain's finest on the other.
The light of summer solstice gleams
In flash of green, then red,
Reflected in unblinking eyes
In wire corral’d they dream the Dance;
The inner shaman sings
As sentinels both sacred and
profane look on.
The moment past, some go their way,
A hunger briefly slaked,
As others, lost to self, dream on
in endless Dance.