In Night's shimmering silence accoutred,
reposed in a jewelled pause,
she sought a portent of golden hours
upon the horizon, of wondrous revelation
upon burnished paths.
Through blind mists of forgotten Seasons
the absent Moon rose
into her pining spirit, that first receptacle
of Life's supreme benefactions,
beaming nacrescent rays
through her every strand, plane and pore.
Ocean and ether, struck breathless, gazed
upon an unwonted vision,
upon a goddess of the sky some mystical
device had brought into corporeal being.
An insomnolent merlin, unaccustomed to
Day's beauty in Dark's domain,
halted his wheeling, as though pinned to
lofty currents by pearly darts,
his cry of awe riving the resting waters,
drawing her eye to Ariadne's crown
in the sand-stippled ink of the shallow.
Upon that silver moment, the young mystic
beheld an argent stream
in the spangled brine, infolding,
coiling into Earth's venter, as though she
were womb and mother of
that distant coronal glow.
The very air tasted of stars, no more mere
celestial orbs, but kin to Destiny,
her eternal votaries and vehicles,
keepers of her clock, mirrors of our souls.
Aye, every twinkling point of light holds
the vastness we would seek within, a vastness
that expands, evolves, into the space
betwixt the faraway fire and the inner flame,
dissolving boundaries of dust and flesh,
of mind and thought, that our beings might
assume its radiance.
A sparkling tear she shed into the shallow,
a saline drop aswell with her inmost joy,
for her reflection wore a divinity's ornament,
a coronet of stars, a halo of starlight.
© 2016 Lily's Verse
Image: BACCHUS AND ARIADNE
Artist: Eustache Le Sueur