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Jan 2014
Light cresting the horizon, she reveals herself to me.
Her brilliant beauty shining, enlightening me is the Sun.
Leaving me blind eyes for it's long since I've seen the light.
As my sight returns, I see a smile upon her glowing face.
Happiness and warmth shines through, but also sadness.
Such a cavernous sorrow only matched by mine.

She speaks to me of a wish to be with the Moon once more.
Like when the land was warm and both did linger in the sky.
A brisk winter wind now engulfs the Sun.
Yet still she shines beautiful life, given to all that behold her.
I have felt her kind light on me, and I have come to cherish the feel.
Memories of my unending midnight that left me cold and bleak, evaporated;
replaced with joy, for returned have the young embers of feelings.

With the presence of the Sun I have been brought back to life.
And I wish to covet her, like the day does the light.
I whisper a wish, a pining desire to share that heavenly grace with the Sun.
But I may only behold her poetic wonder with my eyes I fear.
Far to deep is her flame, which I still yearn after.
Trudging forth is a feeling of looming disaster,
for her thirst is of the Moon's accompaniment alone.

Who am I to stand between the Sun and Moon? Gods in the sky.
For I do not reside above the clouds; I am but a mere observer far below.
Enchanted by the mellow glide through the heavens that they shared.
The Moon should feel her kind sunshine upon his face again.
He knows little of the night that I have hid in for ages repeated,
for he is not charged to linger in darkness for all eternity, like I.

A reluctance I feel to accept the truth, but I may not escape it.
Though, should my heart be tamed? Which is so full of longing.
Ages have passed since my bones have felt this empowering warmth.
I find my mind imagining, dreaming, wandering;
into a place it's far too long since felt any comfort in.
Only to be brought back to the present by the warmth of her smile,
a glance from her beautiful piercing eyes, to hark of her divine laughter.
Remembering that happiness is felt in the presence of a flower,
yet to pluck it for ones self, would begin an end to its beauty.

Whatever may be the desire of the Sun, I share for her too.
For she has shown me life like I've forgotten was possible.
A gift of the like that I could never return with all of my days.
A lost soul in lingering affection of a star, to be looked upon as a fool.
Though a fool for attempting, rather a fool for abstaining.
So return to the dark I will, awaiting in hope for my day to come.
The day that the Sun should like to illuminate me again, and fill my soul with warmth.
Yet I am terrified that day will never arrive for me,
for I've known not but this tragic desolation that has consumed my heart.
Until I met the Sun.
Patrice Jones
Written by
Patrice Jones
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