Twilight and Morning Star

 

At the time of late evening, he walked alone,

as the shadows moving on, quietly

in the dead of night.

 

His dark hair, blacker than a raven’s coat,

with the silver glimmer on his narrow face

when his eyes bathed in the moonlight.

 

At the time of late twilight, he walked alone

and found a sheltered spot in the depths of the forest,

and the forest was old, very old indeed.

 

The trees are creaking, and quietly whispering

to each other, branches reaching far, the moss

hanging on branches like a very long beard,

touching his shoulders as he stood there,

nearby the lonely lake.

 

And he fell like into a dream, the night

as the black velvet around him, and the stars

are dancing.

He saw the reflection of her face, staring from the

depths of calm water, as the morning star.

 

 

 

‘How odd!’ He thought and said ‘I’ve never seen you here before’ but

the girl laughed warmly and pointed at the stars in the sky and said,

‘They are my sisters, my dear wayfarer’.

 

He stared at her beautiful face, bright as the Sun.

And he felt how the light of

her face burned in his black eyes.

 

Heart-shaped face of her, she was smiling to him

and her long, long auburn hair reaching her feet’s as

she stood motionless in front of him.

 

In that moment when the night is

just giving a way to morning arrived,

 

twilight met morning star

and the age pass by them.

 

For a short moment they looked at each other

and her glimmering hair like the Sun itself

shone like gold and he felt how his

heart turned from calm shadows toward the luminous morning.

 

 

 

 

For a short moment she looked those

serene nights with new eyes

and the Moon seemed more dear

to her than the Sun had ever been.

 

At the time of early morning, he walked alone,

the man of Twilight who fell in love with

Morning star, who was known as the most

beautiful of her kind.

 

At sunrise, she walked alone.

 

Lady of the Sun,

Lady of the Lonely Lake,

morning star in her hair

as a crown to wear.

 

Once a year, when the Sun and

the Moon occur the sky together,

they met by the lonely lake

and the gloomy wanderer

embraced her tightly

in his arms

 

but

 

they never got each other.

 

Because HE cannot never walk

under the morning sun, neither SHE

cannot walk to the dead of night,

without either of them dies.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

A amazing tale told in the poetry.
"Because HE cannot never walk
under the morning sun, neither SHE
cannot walk to the dead of night,
without either of them dies."
I liked the above lines. Myth and tale is my favorite. Thank you Sarah for sharing the outstanding tale.
Coyote

[~Sarah~ Idríel The Fair]

Hannon le, mellon nin. Thank you, my friend. Myth and tale is also my favorite. Walk in the stream of time, searching for the inspiration.

[Coyote Poetry]

I agree and you are welcome dear Sarah.