She
walks in Homer in a robe
of
saffron; in Virgil she lies in a bed
of
saffron. Her wonder intrigues
Shakespeare,
and Tennyson,
even
Thoreau watches her crisp
the
pond’s edge. It takes a later time
to
turn the dawn into darkness,
the
light fractured and torn
into
ragged shreds of memory.
Turning
to the light as we call her name,
we
hear only the echo
of a terrible silence.
In
Greek mythology, Aurora
is the goddess of the dawn.
Illustration: Aurora, acrylic on wood panel
by Mike Hale.
5 comments:
Absolutely love.
Lovely. Your choice of image also excellent.
This is lovely -- and the mirror of your words with the image is divine!
Excellent.
Powerful imagery, powerful poem!
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