The Creation of Winter

April 3, 2010
The silent dancer presses her hands to her chest.
Her eyes and ears have been sewn shut for quite some time now.
Yet in her heart she can still hear the song, that he sung best.
Tears form at the edges of her stitched skin, more than she’d usually allow.

Poising her feet and arms to prepare to dance,
The song rings through the forest, like a forgotten pleasure
Though she cannot see the sunlight glittering around her careful prance
She sings on, feeling the warmth of the sun grace her and make her shine brighter.

In her mind’s eye this forest flourishes upon their young love
She sings of another time, when he was her mate
A time before he left her to ascend above.
A time before she arrived too late.

She tells of nights on the beach with a fire to warm them,
Waves crashing on the sand at the mother Moon’s command
No one else on their island, no one around to condemn
A time of freedom, not of laws and demand

As she twirls and her tears fall sparkling to the grass
She dances away her pain, just as she does every Spring day.
Hoping each Spring that through this spot his soul may pass
Wanting him to know the things that she never got to say.

When the dance comes to a close, she falls.
Throughout the trees, her cries echo.
Begging for him to return and answer her calls
Knowing that never again will his smile be shown.

Her heart breaks again, as it will every year until the end of mother Nature.
Such is her punishment, for falling in love with a man
A punishment handed down by cruel and unwelcome creatures
Who played with magic and thought themselves gods with the will to ban.

Following her ache, comes rage, blind hot rage that cannot be eased
Spiting the creatures who leashed her love and passion
Fire coats the world and all shall sweat, until her anger is appeased
Her wrath wrought upon the world until her will is bidden

And as she lays to sleep, weary from her pain
The world cools, the seasons change, and the leaves turn
All becomes a frozen wasteland, waiting for her to wake and dance for her lover slain.
So in winter she shall sleep, and in summer the world shall burn.

For all the crimes committed against her,
She will make them pay.
For every tear that has fallen, there will be no barter
The creatures will ache, just as she did that day.

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