Even the sun is but a shadow

Her canvass portrait is enfleshed, and she lays her head across my legs.  Her dark hair reaches for the wooden beams that form my floor.  I cannot speak.  She can but tremble and sob.

      In an hour’s moment I stand to scan the sea.  I turn toward her huddled frame to speak.

      “You look for a friend who will paint your portrait in warm colors and soft strokes, but I am no such artist.  Illuminating light may reflect an empty chamber or a hollow haven. Sarah... Please find a friend with hope.  One who gives encouragement without coercion.  My love is far too slight to save you, and far too great to hold you here.”  I gaze back at the sea and she turns to me.  Her olive eyes reflect in my window as she stands to approach.

      “Not a friend,” she pauses.  “Not a friend on earth but you.  Will you also abandon me?  It was my father first, trying to buy my affections, and mother soon after with her fondness for friends.”  I cling desperately to the curtain as she continues.

      “Heaven only...Can even heaven cherish my tears?  Does heaven hear my heartbeat or taste my screaming sorrow?  Is it God’s back I see staring out this window at the waves?”  With her words spoken she runs through my doorway into daylight, and I turn to watch her flee.

      I step outside.  The sky is lightly brushed in blue with thin strands of gray and white stroked on the horizon.

      As I enter the lobby I view a scene of scurrying still-life.  Poignant stares and placid smiles are fixed on the faces of mute patrons.  Etched in the corner with a charcoal shadow sits Sarah, with tears streaming down her ashen cheeks.  I kneel beside her and speak.

      “Even the sun is but a shadow in comparison to you.  Its’ life is abstract, but you have a will.  Though your freedom is finite, grasp the paradise on this Midsummer Day.”

      She leans forward and raises her eyes toward mine.  Wiping her tears, she speaks.  “As Poussin has painted, even in paradise, death is king.  My story haunts the graveyard of my conscience, and I’m now too weak to have a will.

 

To weep in inner chambers,

and mourn the loss of dawn,

is finding shifting strangers,

to fix your hope upon.”

Author's Note

From chapter six of "An owl on the moon”… June

Reviews

[Neville]

Amazing.... I intend to visit often & true...... Neville

[An owl on the moon]

Neville, I so appreciate you coming by. :)

[Neville]

Entirely my pleasure... Neville

[emmajoy]

Your beautiful book... seems timeless, Owl.. and always will be. I remember way back the way you thought and near laboured to find its heart.. changing phrases, views, emotions, mishappening. So many nibbles and strange concoctions supped meantime!!! But, look what you have now! Even this snippet shows the depths of your imagination, creating a time and 'mode' of behaviour, and far far more. That final sentence certainly is... more than. Wondrous words. Be safe, old friend..

[An owl on the moon]

So glad to have you a part of this journey for these years, dear Emma. Seems every day someone else ends his or her life... and these words flowed from a darkness like that. So the news makes me ache only more. But may you find such deep peace, such beauty around you, such joy always.

[emmajoy]

Your beautiful book... seems timeless, Owl.. and always will be. I remember way back the way you thought and near laboured to find its heart.. changing phrases, views, emotions, mishappening. So many nibbles and strange concoctions supped meantime!!! But, look what you have now! Even this snippet shows the depths of your imagination, creating a time and 'mode' of behaviour, and far far more. That final sentence certainly is... more than. Wondrous words, old friend..

[Ardra]

My story haunts the graveyard of my conscience, and I’m now too weak to have a will.

mmmm.. such hauntingly true Lines Craig... they speak to me on a very personal level..
and for Month of June... this seems like the perfect gift..
so beautiful...you portray the feelings of a lost soul so well...

you are gifted writer and your words will always weave magic... :)
Pls. keep writing always... and sharing your light to the world

[An owl on the moon]

Ardra, I deeply appreciate your comments. Thank you for your light and your blessings. May you find only more words coming alive inside you, day by day.

[Mrudula Rani]

Without sun there are no shadows, she is brighter than sun and yet she weeps for love. " even in paradise, death is king." .... " finding shifting strangers to fix your hope upon.so Profound and so sad.
Vida sem amor,sem amigos... que tristeza.
Desejo você muitos amigos e muita amor no sua vida. Uma grande abraço. Tudo de bom.

[An owl on the moon]

Muito obrigado... Your words are so inspired, so kind. Wishing you such joy, and friends gathered around you always. u aprecio sua luz neste mundo, precioso amiga. Um grande abraço.

[Mrudula Rani]

De nada... a prazer é meu. Você sempre dá muitas alegre para me com suas palavras lindas. Tenha uma semana de muitas success e felicidades. Uma abraço.

[wordman]

maybe someone will come along to paint that beautiful portrait

[An owl on the moon]

Thank you so much, my friend. May your week bring you endless inspiration.

[wordman]

thank you,and you`re welcome