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I remember better days when dreams were made of dreams and flowers never faded, and clouds were anticipated. I remember when stars were like brushes that painted bright pictures on the darkened canvas called life (when life was something happy to remember) and the moon reflected the rays of the invisible Sun.
So, there are nights when I wonder, "Where are you Sun, when the moon hides?
When none seems to reflect your rays or gaze in the revealing presence of the day?  Are you present in the quiet, in the stillness of the night?”
My dear Light, not even the rocks are singing and it’s silent. There’s a gloom cast upon their mouths and now they wait with the single objective to trip the blind.  But my Revealing one who can see when its night?
Stagnant I’ve become, for fear of tripping again. Unmoving are the stars whose twinkling twinkled and one last twinkle remains.  And all that dares to pass are the hours and minutes which dance so elegantly in these nonexistent intervals of sin. Time exists only to remind me that hope in your rise has become desperately helpless my friend.
I am the moon and lately blue is common to wear these days. Where are you, oh Sun, so that I may reflect your rays? I have no more light, no sense of your haste.  Please mighty Sun, come to disprove the hopelessness of my release.  My skin is pale, my heart is weak.  Where are you supposed deliverer of the meek?  I chase and yet find no relief.  Where are you Sun?  Please shine on me.
For the hard times, the dark times, the times where time is your demise.  Look out, oh, Moon, for in the distance there the Sun moves seeking to bring its rays upon your darkened face.
The Sun shall rise, as it does every day.  The night is full of lies with deceptions that cry out to the sky.  No matter how dark the moon, the Sun is the ultimate bringer of sight.  Where it is unmoving, the Sun soon brings motion to life, and where there is darkness, just beyond the Horizon there is light.

23 Apr 07

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