The lights first appeared on the summer solstice,
hovering above the quiet moor.
People clamoured to explain their existence:
Scientists; witches; religious fanatics;
others spoke of visitors from beyond the stars.

Some issued them names, occultist monikers
born in other tongues and dimensions.
They shed their clothes and danced
to hail the return of their pagan gods –
no care for whether they were malevolent or not.

Serious heed was given by the academics,
so much so that men appeared in shiny suits
taking measurements and readings,
their investigations rendered useless
in the fields of relativity.

Dark matter, anti-matter,
wormholes through space and time,
no one knew for sure
the cause for this
imbalance in Concordia.

They dug up Nostradamus,
trod long forgotten routes of the Inca trail,
received gladly their invitation to doomsday
and opened their ears, at last,
to the music of the spheres.