When the stars threw down their spears
And water’d heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
~ William Blake, “The Tyger”
My shadow precedes me, reprieves and relieves me when the light is too strong for my fiery Mars. She keeps the embers glowing with the warmth of seven stars. She is the inverse, the growl of my days and purr in the night. In her cloak I am the silent authority, the seer behind the eyes.
I long for her and live for her.
She cares not what I think, for she loves what I feel. When I am busy with my thoughts, she waits at the gates, simply smiling to see.
☆ Blessed Darkness ☆