Sunrise and the Waning Moon

It was in the morning that I began to love you. Not the morning that belongs to day. The morning that belongs to the night, and the moon. And to us, my love. It was in that same morning that I begun to call you mine, and you accepted me as your own. Thus it is in the morning that I miss you most. The morning that belongs to us. The one before the rest of the world has awakened and only a select few are still up, praying to the shimmering moon.

There was a time when I answered to that goddess, cruel as she was, a spirit of loneliness, waning and growing outside my bedroom window. I spoke to you. How lovely your voice was! Your voice that spoke directly to my heart, and mine directly to yours. Our voices mixed and mingled into a cry to the fates. A cry to never be apart. We talked long hours into the night about nothing and everything. And sometimes… Sometimes there was no need for words. Those were the moments I treasured most, as we understood one another so well that we didn't need to speak to communicate. A contended sigh spoke volumes.

It was in the night that I hurt you. Twisting the knife into your soul, only to find it embedded just as deeply within the fabrics of my own being. I cried out with you. But I lamented in silence. Such fury. It was the moon, I swear it was! The moon, waning outside my window. Warily staring in at me. The very wind outside crying out to me. Why had I done this? Why had I driven the blade into the earth that I loved so deeply? I bled with you. But I did so quietly. The wounds healed, but scars never quite fade. We healed together, and the moon set on our love.

Those times came and went, and things grew ever more beautiful. I lay down my bloodshot eyes and saw only you. There was nothing else. There was no need for anything else. I saw you and I fell deep into the pools beneath the earth, the pools that the warmth of the universe empties into, the pools within your eyes. How I wished to stay there forever. But eventually this too passed.

You turned away and left. Or rather I did. But it was not my choice! How I would have stayed if given the chance. But I could not. And although I knew it was not to be forever, to be wrenched from my home within your eyes was to have the breath of my soul stolen away. I was empty. Empty without you. The sun began to rise and in its glory… I died.

And was reborn again! I was reborn to find you still warm, still waiting for me, still in love with me. You held my hand. In moments I could not walk you held my hand and helped bear the weight. You looked past my shattered visage and loved me all the more, and though I never thanked you, I never forgot.

We grew closer. We healed physical wounds along with emotional and the earth sang with beauty when I gazed out my window. The sun shone fiercely in the morning of our love. Morning brought maturity. The flowers bloomed and the birds sang and the world exploded with a new found life. It was then that we began to live for one another. This too passed.

Afternoon came. The world became a brilliant festival of life and light and the universe forgot the moon for beauty of the sun! For beauty of you. It was in this afternoon that we first became one. And we have been such ever since. One person inhabiting two bodies. But sometimes… there are some times when we are just the opposite. Two people inhabiting one body. Those moments are beautiful. Beautiful as the afternoon when first we embraced. Unashamed. Proud to be in love with one another, to be one person. Heaven smiled down on us and in the day when we held each other there was nothing to say. Contended sighs spoke volumes. We held each other until sunset.

Twilight came. With it, a meteor shower! We watched it together. Watched as the universe painted us a picture and as the angels sang us a song. We held hands and fell deeper in love. Deeper into one another. Inseparable and complete at last.

We were creatures meant for one another from the very beginning, my love. We are two beings made from one. Together we are whole. In the moments when I inhabit you, and you lay atop me, entwined with me, deeply in love, I am whole. In those moments in the deepest night when the world is silent and all that there is is you, I am complete. I am happy. But twilight always passes. The sun always rises. And with it, in its brilliance, with you, I die only to be reborn in your arms.

There is a saying “this too, shall pass”. And it is true. It will. The sun will set again. Twilight will come. And night will fall. The night that belongs to us. Only to us. I ache for you. Always. Constantly. While I am away, nothing is more important. Nothing drives me to continue more than the thought of night coming once more, and with it your kiss. I ache for your whispered promises of love. I ache for the release your embrace offers me. I ache to be whole with you again. I ache to dive into the warm pools beneath the earth. I wish to live there. But always, always I am pulled away. The sun rises, and I die. But sure as the sun will rise, it will set, and I will belong to you again as the night belongs to us.