~ Complete ~
A/N: Why do I write pieces that milk my
tears?
I
can’t explain it . . .
What
will forever be to us, at the end of our exhausting travel?
~
~ ~
Myriad
of precious,
Gold-flecked
nightingales,
Swarmed
throughout the night,
As
they pressed upon the sky-
In
shaded, ethereal white.
A
pretty rose he gave her,
And
pressed into her,
Soft,
white hands for it,
Was
soulful Night, for humans.
A
child walked below me,
To meet the end of-
A slow exhausting journey . . .
A
maiden’s eyes slid closed,
In
eternal peace to fall,
Over
a gravitas land,
Shedding
its warmth through her,
And
the luminous stroke,
Of
the moonlight’s gleam,
Lent
over her a faint torch-
A
child who had once,
Pressed
the milky wedge-
Of
the gleaming moon,
To
play personal piano,
Which
the rest of us,
Could
only be looked upon-
And
a subdued owl . . .
Hooted
gently to the sounds,
Of
the melodious moon-
Whose
silent peace immersed us.
A
bright star shone beside it,
Granting
us with its,
Soft,
milky light,
Sending
a divine message.
No
one was able to see or hear,
The
sounds of imminent summons near us . . .
As
they occurred I alone,
Could
hear the troubled changes,
Understood
Night’s pain-
Night
itself wept softly,
Over
the shadowed souls that,
Lay
now in pasture sleeping,
Where
babies shifted within their,
Solid,
warm cocoon, unknowing . . .
Unable to stand such pain,
I then placed my,
Hands
upon one, lone child,
Who
sat before me sleeping,
And
closed her heavy eyelids,
Waiting
into long silence-
For
what would soon befall us.
I
looked into her blue eyes,
And
in that moment made a choice-
I
finally formed the words,
Of
the age-old song that lived,
In
my eroded breast while I still,
Had
the time to do so . . .
,
‘So
the years went by,
The
fields lay cold with frost,
Soon
it came to pass,
The
king rode towards his home.
The
dusty horse he rode on,
Towards
the mountain grandeur,
Was
stately gliding over,
The
trembling pass.
So
then the sunset closed then,
And
I sought to light a flame,
Of
a slowly dying candle,
Before
I knew that He’d come-
Home
to finally beckon me,
To
my eternity.
Light
the candle darling,
When
the night is still,
And
the king rides on towards Heaven,
Close
your eyes my child,
For
tomorrow the time is ours,
To
hold forever . . .’
The
child gazed upon me,
And
began to whisper softly,
The
repeated song to me,
In
low, timorous tones.
And
as I listened,
The
moon lit up the sky while,
A
clock now seemed to tick,
As
birds hid in their branches,
And
then at the last-
We
finally lay down to rest.
Yet
when I awoke anon again,
Silver
ribbons cast rays,
Of
light about the sky- before I,
Knew
the reason for this change,
I
was swept into its glowing rise-
Of
the ethereal, morning light,
And
before I could seek the child,
That
I’d taken unto my breast,
I
began floating . . .
Into
my forever ~
~
Dedicated to my grandmother: although she has aged . . . she is nonetheless
beautiful . . .
