In the shadow of modern daybreak he approaches tenderly, a young man with brunette tresses bound by red thread naturally. He is taller than a seraph humble almost shy, and when you look into his eyesight, you see a world that’s born of sighs. In his attitude is passion born of latitudinal rhymes, those words that create mercury that never can oxidize. The wind it flows right through him, all its colors born upright, lest a shadow should be waiting, the sun stands still against the sky. If born of womb and sorrow he would be master of deceit, likewise, he moves above mere element, ages gather round his feet. He strides without aggression, antithesis, of all that is new, his forehead growing lighter, the old woman in his view.
She is three score, nine a lady, with light gray about her hair, she’s been shopping, eyes born waiting, for someone to bring her a chair. Her arms have scars of testing, and she’s seen a devils moon, offered her life for the taking, still she’s standing in this room. Indigo, pure aura, of a storm, that last too long, she is broken but still waiting for the gentleman to whom she belongs. As it is when she had children, as it was when she did pray, in her time among the scorpions, a widow and afraid. Lest she know this man approaching, should he make her life complete. “Now thou woman of my taking I have come at last we meet“.
He walks with her in gardens, and he makes her life brand new, a law thought as a fable the young gentleman has made true. In an age thought of now ceasing, as some wait upon some shore, he comes to her still labor, for it’s her he does adore. What in Yisrael you see as lightning, is the law of no divide, it is a young man come for his woman, and so it is, what love decides.
They walk upon a fountain, they swim naked in a stream, what is bound in earth and heaven, this gentle light has now decreed.
In the shadow of modern daybreak he approaches tenderly, a young man with brunette tresses bound by red thread naturally. 08.16.2014 – דָּנִיֵּאל