| Days On Days The leaves flutter on the limbs of the tree, light shines through beams like rain falling to the ground. Taller than I, this tree with wisdom of its own. And there is the sun, this sun hath shone for countless days and days on days. I feel its light and wonder at its source. And all is good. I may leap, I may jump, I may sing. All things are like music, and for it I know one word. It is harmony, but it is full, complex, it is rich. In it are so many things, but also one thing: It is Beauty. I am always safe, I fear to go no place, to seek over a hill peer under a rock (O rock on which I stand!) I feel secure because the sun is always there just over my shoulder. There is always warmpth and light. But now I start-- and I am afraid. Shadows! Things grow dim. The sun is setting and darkness advances. I do not like this darkness. It will not let me leap. It will not let me jump. Above all it will not let me sing. I am determined now. I will find the sun again if I must seek days and days on days. I will see this night brought to an end and it shall not outlast me. An impossible task though this may seem, I find that I will undertake it. I look up to the sky where the sun is absent, and I find that now I can see other stars. They tell me I can find the sun. But lo! something rises. It is not the sun, but something else. It is the moon, a thing I have not seen before. Where did it come from? Silver it shines, and I smile. All light is not fled. In this moon, I think I see just a bit of the light of the sun and my heart rejoices in it. Hello, O moon. I seek my Sun. Do you know where it has gone? --Redwing |
| Days on Days: A poem by Redwing |
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