blame-it-on-the-moon-Painting of Angels-Nik Helbig |
Her tiny chest fluttering with the restlessness
That comes only from having had the Wind
As a companion for most of one's life.
"Come to me little one," I said to the Bird,
"Come little bird and help me catch the Sun."
"I caught the Sun once," She said to me.
"But she cried large golden tears, and I let her go."
I then walked upon a cat lounging in dappled light.
Its strong, lean paws crossed below his head
That was held high and alert--
Curious of my scent and suspicious of my intentions.
"Come to me swift one," I said to the Cat.
"Come to me and help me catch the Sun."
"I chased the Sun once," He said to me.
"But she wailed so loudly that I stopped my pursuit."
My search went on and on, but no one would help me.
So, I chased and caught the Sun on my own.
And she cried her big, hot tears.
And she wailed her sad, desperate sobs.
But I never did let Her go.
And the World all around grew dark.
And the Day turned to endless night.
And the Sky became sad and empty.
Not for me, though.
I kept the Sun close by.
And I never did feel cold again
or Dark or Small or Weak.
But the Sun never spoke,
And no one ever came close.
And I never did feel love again
or Mercy or Hope or Peace.
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