Chapter IV: Guiding Star

i've categorised them as poems but i don't think they are really poems. i started them with poetry in mind. so the categorisation. by the way, when does poetry turn into prose and vice versa??

it was there
unmoving, constant as ever
guiding him
leading him on
keeping despairing voices quiet
he could feel its distant light reach deep inside
deep down where he kept, nurtured
a sliver of hope
a tiny flame, flickering
carefully hidden
lest the desert winds snuff it out
but on nights like this
that gentle light, so clear and bright
made his flickering flame
burn in an all-consuming blaze
he wished he could give in
be consumed in the fiery glow
but he knew differently
hope alone bore no fruit
and there was the desert
lying in wait
as patient as it was cruel
to those lost without a guide

the dawn had crept up on him
soon his guiding star would hide
from the sun and its fury
he made his bed for the day
he dusted himself and chuckled
as he thought about the absurdity
the dark he had feared all his life
but here he was
in the middle of somewhere
with the night his only friend

he dreamt
of the soothsayer and that day
the tears that stained her lovely face
as she sent her only love away
"you were chosen," she'd written in the sand
"even before you were made
i knew this day would come
even before we had met"

he'd wondered often
of the fierceness of her love
of love unflinching
of love so true
of love so constant
his guiding star
that distant yonder star in the flesh
what man deserved such love?
he wondered no more
now he knew
as clear as the blue sky stretched out above him
cloudless
now he knew
the silence that was her farewell

Reviews

[Emily B]

oh, oh . . .

[...]

. oh ... i am stunned and speechless ...
. i cannot believe i am reading these stunning words ...