The Vigil Keepers

November 5, 2011
By Somoora BRONZE, London, Other
Somoora BRONZE, London, Other
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The fiery sun has died away
Only smears of its shadows yet follow the day
Remains of a bubblegum sky, still, may soon
Overshadow the shy, yet following Moon.
All through the earth, and into the sea
Her silvery fingers would gently be;
A white light like none else, the color of doves
She lets shine over all of the things that she loves
Be it creatures that graze at the foot of the hills
The wheat of the field, or the cricket that trills
And the foam of the ocean, whipping the sand
That pours ever more from the crumbling land.
Upon the first hinting of light, then at last
The Sun spreads his smile over the grass
She may linger awhile, a soft bloodless thing
In a sky full of dawn, when the birds start to sing.
Yet she feels longing for her indigo robe
Spotted with silver, with whisperings sewn.
So with faint subtle steps, she will vanish and go
To return when the sky with dusk is aglow.
And I, in my sleeplessness over the earth
Cannot help but feel full of spirit and mirth
From the vigil we see, this friendship of love
In the stars, in the sky, keeping watch from above.

The author's comments:
It's amazing how a day-long coach journey could make me see the transition between day and night, not as the end of happiness and the beginning of darkness, but as rather two friends taking in turns to keep a vigil over us, Nature and the Earth.

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