Darkness is her closest friend

Chapter 11 in my book: "An owl on the moon..."

 

     “What a subtle insanity. How I have tasted the essence of life, but it has been a bitter meal.”  She rises to her feet and stares out her window.  “O, the passion of pain; how I cling to it  and clutch its bony ridges. To know wave after wave of it, and not be overwhelmed; is this life?”  Her eyes steal into mine.  “Euripides was right: ‘Whom God desires to destroy, He first drives mad.’”

     “To the blind,” I say, “all things visible have unimagined beauty.  Only open your eyes.”  She turns again toward her open window and scans the screaming sea.

     “All eyes view similar scenes, only some see a canvas of darkness and some light.  We have painted a starless sky, and are drunk on cooler hues.  When I signed my name that first time, some months back, it was to be my last time.  But seeing you again, after countless tides, I longed to live and recover what I had lost when I first knew you.  What peace we had as  children, and what innocent joy.  O, the red and yellow strokes we spread on our canvass then!  It was the only time I ever knew happiness.

 

Broad fires of red life,

awakened suns of slumber.

In ignorance of strife,

we birthed the waxing moon.”

 

     At these words she releases my hand and I kneel beside her.  I turn to speak. “I am  a sick physician, weak in cure. Let my measured tears be your medicine.”

     She lifts her hand and strokes my hair.  “I am immune to your medicine, but I thank you.  My medicinal cure is a carving stone planted in a churchyard.  Maybe this seed will grow then.”  She draws back her hand, looking at it with bewildered hues, then lays with her face to the cold floor.

    “Now I’ll be for you as patient as the grave, for I realize I have been dead such a long time.”

     “Come back from that place,” I say as my voice breaks.  “I need you to come back.

 

Wander with intent

into a garden glorious.

Walk with double brisk

upon edenic paths.

Flee the cursing fear

that lights upon your eye.

Seize the twisted dream

that strangles earth and sky.”

 

     She rises on her knees and turns to me.  “I am lost, but neither cursing nor blessing will map me.  Even you, my childhood guide, are a demon’s distance from me.  Leave me like the waning waves, and strand me in the tidal pool, for even your voice and hands are too weak to save my soul.”  In this I sense such an empty hollow that I rise, only to slip back, grasping for a chair, then a desk until I surrender and stumble.  I open my mouth to speak but the cold steals my breath and I clutch my treasonous throat.

     She comes to me, kisses my face, and whispers,

 

“The winged beasts and angels know, that mortals cannot fly. 

But how I flew to see the sun; a broken bird am I.”

 

     “I love you,” she says with a smile as tears drape her cheeks, “but my memory is merciless.  How my heart was grafted to yours as we spoke; as you dreamed.  Live on, dreamer.  My sleep will be earth eternal. Sic transit gloria mundi: So passes away all the glory of the world.”  I sob as she turns and walks toward her window.  Releasing the latch, she turns one more time and fixes her gaze on me, then she slips from my view. I cannot breathe, but I quickly crawl to the chasm.

     Olive eyes dissolve into azure sea as her body falls from the framed window.  Her breath comes quickly as her eyes strain for light and life.  This breath leaves her body and her lips turn dry and strained as darkness envelopes the face of the waters and her body strikes the stones.

     As I stare at her from a distance, a rider on a dark horse carries her spirit into the sea.  It is the Harlequin horseman and his demon horde, and over the thunder I hear hell’s stinging hackle. The waves echo Sarah’s voice: “I’ve passed through the door.” I reach out my hand in hopes of somehow grasping her back.

     The deep sky speaks to this one of dust.  “The darkness is her closest friend.”

 

She glides on wings in the night,

with deafened ears and blinded sight.

Pages turn and centuries pass;

moments cease in frozen glass.

She walks on wings in the night,

living fantasies of faithless might.

When the light of truth floods her eyes,

her fragile body faints and dies.

 

     The waves gnaw at her fractured body as clouds of feather dust drift on.  The music of her perfume mingles with the stench of the sea.  “It is the dreamers who perish.”  O, solemn slumber! Such grace for me and none for herself.

 

Forever gone, the taste of rain;

the breath of meadow flowers;

the feeling of winded fingers;

the fragrance of angel words.

 

     The echo of her final note dances into stillness, as the clouds rupture and rampant tears stream down the window-pane.  My only daylight is gone. No music plays tonight, for this hush has no harmony.  The sea reeks of mortality, as I lay motionless on her floor.

 

The devastation of desire,

and the desecration of creation,

brings the hoofbeats of the horsemen,

and a haunting revelation.

 

     I lay still in silence...silence...silence.  

Author's Note

From chapter 11 (November) in my book: "An owl on the moon." The end is here...

Reviews

[Mrudula Rani]

Even in melancholy you point out beauty, Craig. in sorrow and silence echoes her final note leaving one wanting to know if this is final? Or is there at least one more chapter, December! Your writings are profound and breathtakingly beautiful, I am amazed at your knowledge and talents every time I read your works.

[An owl on the moon]

Obrigado, precioso Mrudula! Thank you for your words of light for the darkness that is here. This is a chapter that still makes me ache. But yes, yes there is December to come. Desejando-lhe tanta alegria no seu fim de semana. Um grande abraço.

[Mrudula Rani]

Agradeço de coração pela sua carinho meu Querido amigo. Desejo você boas festas. Feliz Natal. Uma ano novo de muitas felicidades.

[An owl on the moon]

Desejo boas festas a você. Sussurrando tanta alegria e paz para você agora ... e para o abençoado e glorioso ano novo para você.

[Mrudula Rani]

Obrigada querido. Uma grande abraço.

[m3lody mae]

“The winged beasts and angels know, that mortals cannot fly.
But how I flew to see the sun; a broken bird am I.”

This says so much here....I think we all are kind of like a broken bird, searching for our wings to fly.
this is so well written. You are very talented.

[barleygirl]

This is so lyrical & imaginative & flowing. Even tho you use an elevated language, it's still straightforward & easy to follow (for someone like me who can get lost in this style of writing). I love that there are no wasted or superfluous words, plus every line is well-crafted, never a haphazard phrase. Yours might be the most intentional poetry I've ever read (I haven't read formal poets) Fondly, Margie

[An owl on the moon]

Thank you so much Margie. Your insights and reflections are so lifting. I still cry when reading back through this chapter. My soul carries the loss. Blessings, Craig.

[Tamara Beryl Latham]

You are an exceptionally talented writer. Your words capture the reader's attention from beginning to end and the language and rhythm of this piece is incomparable. You have an extra "s" in canvas that you should edit out.

Are you planning to write a book? You should.

Great read and thank you for posting this excellent write. :-)

[An owl on the moon]

I so deeply appreciate your kindness, dear Tamara. Grateful for your guidance as well. Will make that change now. This is from my one novel in print. The pain of it nearly got the best of me.

[Tamara Beryl Latham]

No problem. I enjoyed the read immensely. :-)

[Onlyme]

Narrative of outstanding meaning. That takes you into a journey and an epic tale. That leaves you breathless and thinking wow.

[An owl on the moon]

Thank you dear poet. I was on this path for too many years... the path into the abyss... May we all reach as many as we can before it's too late...

[Gypsy Warrior Queen]

Chapter 11( November)- there are no words that could connect me closer.....

[An owl on the moon]

I appreciate your presence here so much, dear poet. These spaces still make me ache, wishing life could exist without the painful paths...

[Gypsy Warrior Queen]

without them there is no lesson, there is no life, there is no pursuit of more .....love

[An owl on the moon]

So true... I would not exist without these dark threads holding me together...

[Gypsy Warrior Queen]

the unseen scars to your beautiful soul....tranquil...haunting...necessary stitching

[An owl on the moon]

You understand so well... the darker, deeper flavors of the world...

[Gypsy Warrior Queen]

I was seeded to be a sweet pea but instead grew to be a moon flower :)

[An owl on the moon]

I remember the moon flower magnificence in my garden... shimmering alabaster light... :)

[Gypsy Warrior Queen]

..to guide until the light touches you :)