(I was inspired to write this after reading an ancient legend
about the sun dying every night so that the moon might draw breath.
As it was Holy Week for Christians, this inspired me to try my hand on a comparative allusion
about how Christ died so that humanity might draw new life)
“The Sun loved the Moon so dearly,
that every night he died so she might draw breath.”
– Ancient Myth
The Sacrifice of the Sun
Trees whisper in the garden
The moon calls to wind,
“Blow hither the clouds to shield my beauty fair.”
The stars stream forth, as tears,
For the Sun goes forth to die
“Blow hard till the stars explode in molten flame.”
He goes forth, bowed by night,
Pressed till wine flows
“Blow till my black mantle shields His bloodied brow.”
The King of Light is drowned
In darkness smooth as ebony
“What is this breath I draw…to live in death?”
His death, His death, He dies…
Flowers open to the Moon
“Shield your eyes; my paleness is of death!”
Sunlight splashed on stones
Now cold as hardened hearts
“He sent forth His heat to warm a maiden’s breath!”
Breath cuts sharp as steel
And a maiden’s sword is purest
“Slice through, thou wind, the curtain’s breast!”
Thorns and blossoms intertwine
And scarlet blood is on the sun
“Fall, golden dew, thou honey of the Ancient Word!”
Serpents hiss in the garden
Soothe the trees with silken stride
“Your venom runs and poisons sun-lit veins!”
Fangs sink, yet He cries not
His is the tree’s legacy
“Hear, they whisper…the kiss of death…”
Oil that lights the lamps
Tree’s fruit, to guide us
“Come hither, tiny lights; wait for the Sun…”
Bride in geese-white gown,
Embrace the raven’s flight
“Fly fast, thou bird of death, then comes the dawn…”
Black wings stream with fire
Phoenix will arise
“Blow the ashes in the path, as incense swirls!”
Breath of perfumed chamber
Rising ball of amber
“He comes, He comes…purple heart of flame!”
And the trees whispered in the garden
As sun and moon crossed, sweet sighing
“Circle me, oh dance of dawning…”
And the touch of Love was theirs.
Avellina Balestri
