The darkest heat was descending over the western sky,
And the birds prepared to gather their straw and fly home to their kids.
It was a beautiful afternoon in the valleys.
The quaint drops of green were at their blooming best,
the soothing raiment of nature was a verdant soliloquy.
The skies were slowly turning into a beautiful golden blue.
The cry of dove in the air,
Brought about a feeling of lightness.
There was a tree in the near distance,
Golden with its magniloquent leaves.
The frail afternoon was to be replaced by night.
Kids played in its aftermath,
A lonely kite,
A menagerie of children in the shadowy light.
The hue of the sunset had brought with it the fragrance of love.
Far away maidens sighed,
In wait of their handsome prince,
Some cried,
For built in the zeitgeist was their souls,
In the form of lost memories.
Nature yawned,
The heat and collage of the day was over,
It was time to relax,
A furtive glance towards the stoic past,
A half eyed look ahead into the sylvan quietus of life.
It was time to shed the folds of crop and green,
And merge into the golden carpets of love and its leisurely dream.
Whilst the vagaries of summer melted into the supple autumn with a halcyon hue,
The world prepared to rest their woes.
Only a boy stay awake in silence.
The ball of fire dissipated a vibgyor of colours as it submerged beyond the realms of the horizon,
But as darkness was beginning to grow,
Another beautiful shining love illuminated the sky.
He watched, bathed in the silver moonlight of the moment.
The scinitilla of reflection that emanated from the crisp leaves debouched from the darkness.
It mirrored a blend of aurum and argent into the naive innonence of his eyes.
A few other leaves swayed in the evening breeze and crumpled to dust,
Some blew about for an entire minute in the flirting winds.
Through the branches of the trusty Elm he continued to see fragments of the silvery Orb,
That which time had left behind, and lost,
In the myth of reality.
And in its midst, then, he saw her.
She was a flowing tinge of silk, a shadow in the glitter of the white.
He remembered the story that his grandfather used to tell him as a kid.
He was no more, but the tale had remained with him.
Once upon a time a king used to love a girl.
But he was proud and kept her captive.
Whilst her heart yearned for her love, her unknown prince,
The king wanted to wash away her dreams.
One day he brought three pills of immortality.
That night when he offered one to her,
She beguiled him and took away all three.
But one was not what three were meant for,
And out she flew into the night sky.
The king tried to catch her, but little could he do as he could not fly.
Since then she has been perched atop the highest mountain,
The unfathomable glimmer of light.
Sitting on the plinths of the unreachable,
Rising with the darkness of every night.
But he knew what others did not, he could feel his heart beat rapidly tonight.
The moon shone the brightest on the eighth day of the eighth lunar month,
When it was time for the golden harvest,
For the springs to start flowing again,
And the creeks to fill.
When it would be the moment of her prince to arrive.
She would smile, and that be her most beautiful day of the year.
He watched all this, and more, with reticent eyes,
Silence which was disrupted only by the occasional screech of an owl.
The irenic ambience waited in anticipation for the spectacle of a lifetime.
Moments dragged by, a bricolage of rustling of leaves and the silvery wisps of smoke.
And then as the moon was at its highest, time froze;
As if cradled in the equanimity of love.
The moon and I met like the confluence of two rivers;
And meted out into the undying sea.
The silence of the moment reverberated across the horizons of time,
Her oneiric eyes lost in the fathoms of my mellow fruitfulness.
And then, we kissed.
But night could not remain static for long,
And like a travelling calcavade it moved on.
In the far reaches, laughter echoed from families of the present,
And it seemed like a time to get together and celebrate with near and dear ones.
On a nigh pond a fleet of swans glided smoothly in the wake of joy.
As the darkness began to fade to be replaced by the icy morning of pride,
He walked away in the freedom of his newly found love.
Close to his home, a silver maiden, the daughter of a merchant, awoke with the rising dawn.
And I watched all, from beginning to end of the Fall.
My sere hands, now withered, lifted into a smoke of form,
And with all the life left in me,
I blessed him.
As the sun rose over the eastern line of infinity,
It washed away the traces of silver that outlined the sky.
I would rise again another day, another year,
Like the phoenix of autumn if dreams could fly...
Hirak.
And the birds prepared to gather their straw and fly home to their kids.
It was a beautiful afternoon in the valleys.
The quaint drops of green were at their blooming best,
the soothing raiment of nature was a verdant soliloquy.
The skies were slowly turning into a beautiful golden blue.
The cry of dove in the air,
Brought about a feeling of lightness.
There was a tree in the near distance,
Golden with its magniloquent leaves.
The frail afternoon was to be replaced by night.
Kids played in its aftermath,
A lonely kite,
A menagerie of children in the shadowy light.
The hue of the sunset had brought with it the fragrance of love.
Far away maidens sighed,
In wait of their handsome prince,
Some cried,
For built in the zeitgeist was their souls,
In the form of lost memories.
Nature yawned,
The heat and collage of the day was over,
It was time to relax,
A furtive glance towards the stoic past,
A half eyed look ahead into the sylvan quietus of life.
It was time to shed the folds of crop and green,
And merge into the golden carpets of love and its leisurely dream.
Whilst the vagaries of summer melted into the supple autumn with a halcyon hue,
The world prepared to rest their woes.
Only a boy stay awake in silence.
The ball of fire dissipated a vibgyor of colours as it submerged beyond the realms of the horizon,
But as darkness was beginning to grow,
Another beautiful shining love illuminated the sky.
He watched, bathed in the silver moonlight of the moment.
The scinitilla of reflection that emanated from the crisp leaves debouched from the darkness.
It mirrored a blend of aurum and argent into the naive innonence of his eyes.
A few other leaves swayed in the evening breeze and crumpled to dust,
Some blew about for an entire minute in the flirting winds.
Through the branches of the trusty Elm he continued to see fragments of the silvery Orb,
That which time had left behind, and lost,
In the myth of reality.
And in its midst, then, he saw her.
She was a flowing tinge of silk, a shadow in the glitter of the white.
He remembered the story that his grandfather used to tell him as a kid.
He was no more, but the tale had remained with him.
Once upon a time a king used to love a girl.
But he was proud and kept her captive.
Whilst her heart yearned for her love, her unknown prince,
The king wanted to wash away her dreams.
One day he brought three pills of immortality.
That night when he offered one to her,
She beguiled him and took away all three.
But one was not what three were meant for,
And out she flew into the night sky.
The king tried to catch her, but little could he do as he could not fly.
Since then she has been perched atop the highest mountain,
The unfathomable glimmer of light.
Sitting on the plinths of the unreachable,
Rising with the darkness of every night.
But he knew what others did not, he could feel his heart beat rapidly tonight.
The moon shone the brightest on the eighth day of the eighth lunar month,
When it was time for the golden harvest,
For the springs to start flowing again,
And the creeks to fill.
When it would be the moment of her prince to arrive.
She would smile, and that be her most beautiful day of the year.
He watched all this, and more, with reticent eyes,
Silence which was disrupted only by the occasional screech of an owl.
The irenic ambience waited in anticipation for the spectacle of a lifetime.
Moments dragged by, a bricolage of rustling of leaves and the silvery wisps of smoke.
And then as the moon was at its highest, time froze;
As if cradled in the equanimity of love.
The moon and I met like the confluence of two rivers;
And meted out into the undying sea.
The silence of the moment reverberated across the horizons of time,
Her oneiric eyes lost in the fathoms of my mellow fruitfulness.
And then, we kissed.
But night could not remain static for long,
And like a travelling calcavade it moved on.
In the far reaches, laughter echoed from families of the present,
And it seemed like a time to get together and celebrate with near and dear ones.
On a nigh pond a fleet of swans glided smoothly in the wake of joy.
As the darkness began to fade to be replaced by the icy morning of pride,
He walked away in the freedom of his newly found love.
Close to his home, a silver maiden, the daughter of a merchant, awoke with the rising dawn.
And I watched all, from beginning to end of the Fall.
My sere hands, now withered, lifted into a smoke of form,
And with all the life left in me,
I blessed him.
As the sun rose over the eastern line of infinity,
It washed away the traces of silver that outlined the sky.
I would rise again another day, another year,
Like the phoenix of autumn if dreams could fly...
Hirak.
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