Jealous Moon
Danae
As the last rays of
the dying sun
Gently kiss the earth
goodnight,
From brilliant greens
to royal reds and purples.
The forest's
light-loving inhabitants disappear,
Leaving the
fast-approaching night
To those of a more
nocturnal nature.
The cloud-strewn sky
looks to be ablaze,
As the sun rages,
fighting his impending death.
Yet even as her
brother dies,
Jealous Moon takes
over the skies.
For only when his
brilliance is extinguished,
Can her pale beauty
shine through,
And she delights as
his body sinks below the horizon.
Now she is queen,
queen of the night.
Her servants twinkle
beyond her,
Her children, those
creatures of the night-time world
Pay homage to her with
their songs.
Gone are her brother's
glaring rays of gold,
And she revels in the
velvet black that remains.
The night is hers
alone.
Tonight especially
belongs to her,
For tonight, no shadow
will fall across her face
And the clouds seem to
move away in reverence.
She glides across her
stage of shimmering darkness,
Taking care to allow
her light to touch all below.
She spares a special
ray of pale white light
For the lone wolf who
serenades her as she goes.
As she nears the end
of her royal pathway,
She glances behind to
see her subjects once more,
But what she sees
instead
Fills her with anger
and dread.
For there on the
horizon of her sky,
Appears a single ray
of golden light,
Piercing her precious
dark,
Turning it from black
to blue,
Then from blue to pale
yellow and brilliant pink.
He has returned, the
brother she loathes,
To reclaim his kingdom
and shine his light.
She watches, helpless,
as he steals the world away,
As her glorious night
turns to day.
Who was it brought him
back from death?
She wonders even as
her beauty fades.
A pale shadow to his
glory, a mere wisp in his sky.
A short reign, the
night provides,
Not long enough to
feed her pride,
Not long enough to
stem her hate.
His brilliance she
will never know,
His light she can
never match.
Her sorrow he will
never understand.
Poor Jealous
Moon.