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The Sun for a Tear
I woke and knew not what it mean
And no one could tell me, nor one would,
Why this enthralls me each day:
Through lashes of dark oaks at dawn,
A glassy orb of gold would jump
Through a blue sea of endless glare,
Then drops on a pale, hazy patch at dusk.
D'you tell me that it's the dawning sun
That wades through the wide wondrous sky
Then drops on the dusk's
Misty mountains high?
My dreams tell me differently,
And it does with more truth, and honesty:
That through lashes of Her eyes,
A glassy tear of gold
Would wade through Her bluest deeply glare,
Then it would drop on Her pale, hazy patch of cheek.
Oh, Freyja shed Her tear again!
And it enthralls me,
The Lady Beautiful in Tears!
© Bill Haile
Image: Sunrise through the mist and trees,
Kejimkujik National Park.
© Andrew Bourke.
This file is licensed under the
Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic license.
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