Wordle: Past Magic

The mists of time swirl and clear
And we find ourselves in a long-gone year
At a point in time where stories began
Origins of legends that have for centuries ran
As rain lashes and chilled winds howl
Wild animals circle that were born to prowl
Kept from the cave by thin rings of fire
Their tenacity to wait something to admire
Within the safety of the cavern walls
The clan folk wait for their spirits’ call
Faces and limbs painted in coloured ash
Finely dressed with cloak and sash
Expectation high as joy radiates
And tribal words sung as they celebrate
Then lightning flashes and everything stops
Rainbow accompanies the final raindrops
The sky turns yellow and bright and clear
The observers know the time is near
The elder steps forth and holds aloft
A wand with which he gently wafts
Tradition was that the wand be snapped
So the elder does exactly that
He then stands eyes closed hands cupped
And magical flames from his hands erupt
Igniting once more those rings of fire
How else could they stay lit with weather so dire?
Thunder rumbles overhead
Those tenacious beasts long since fled
But from the sky a white dove lands
As each of the clan folk understand
That this is is the sign they’ve been waiting for
Their spirit has returned once more
And once more they sing and dance and cheer
And believe in goodness for the rest of the year
For us though it is the time to leave
As time’s mists once more swirl and weave
And gently carry us back through time
And bring an end to this lengthy rhyme