The amazing thing about relationships is that like the gravity that aligns the heavens, people are ineffably drawn to each other in an elusive and mysterious pull, and when this is broken and our worlds loose their alignment we hurdle into space to wonder the vast fields of a cold and infinite plane until we either regain their orbit elsewhere or else collide. It is the collisions that are the most frightening and spectacular, the ones that form new moons and bereft whole planets of life. – Galæus
She was the melancholy of morning,
And sometimes the lily, the rose, the dew,
But always pressed with a heart of mourning
A heart of horrors she alone could view.
He was the lonely shadow of evening,
Sometimes the olive, the oak, the orchard,
But always a fool or at best a king,
A king who by a thorn-crown was tortured.
They met and aye! I remember it well!
The summer sweetly span her blossoms still
And seemed not to notice the harvest swell.
How could we have guessed at the coming chill?
And I? A friend to all (whom all confide),
Witness to all, their counsel, and your guide:
Summer gave her sultry grand finale
With all spotlights blazing on center-stage
But still the greedy crowd cried out, Encore!
We all walked in during intermission
As our fool-king was always late a week,
But then he noticed her sitting alone
In a grey booth fit for three if you squeezed.
The applause thundered on and on and on,
Brava! Brava! Bravissima!, They roared.
No one noticed the fool-queen fainted dead
Dropping her pearl opera glass on the floor.
Claim summer for passion but autumn is the trial
For not all blossoms bear fruit, despite the petal.
So when the two fell into each other’s embrace
All rejoiced with the golden harvest that then came.
Who would had known how thick the frost had grown within
The heart of our fool-king left from ages long past?
And she, she had no want or need of cold or thorns.
It was too fast; they desired much of each other:
She wanted liberation, he redemption – and I?
Witness to all; but perhaps did too much, too soon.
The bise wind blew like no wind known before,
And would have swept me had I no anchor.
Still it forced a numbing chill in us all,
As if death was laughing and calling to us.
They would never last, they could never last,
I know for I was witness to it all:
Every drop of dew, or icy stare;
A heart of horrors needs much rest and warmth
And a cold crown of thorns can offer none,
In short, the blossom could only wilt away.
But lo! the reign of Spring shall dawn,
And cry to ice and snow – BE GONE!
And promise any heart can mend
If they take in the season-song.