Lumen Nescis

They worshipped him,

the 'Light bringer'

who chased beams across the sky,

golden chariot blazing,

the harbinger of warmth.

Even the moon

wears his reflection,

basking in the borrowed silk.

But I was born of the Earth

and Sky,

christened with the crowns

of above and below,

finding loveliness in pomegranates;

their blood red juice

staining my lips,

speaking the wisdom

of snowdrops.

They idolize the sweetness

of summer,

the thrill of the hunt,

dancing with grasshoppers

in wide-legged denim,

middle parts lined like August's geometry.

Laughter curls in my throat,

purring deep amongst the graves I've planted

with flowers.

A thousand daffodils will bloom again

in clay where a thousand silvered tears

are wept.

What beauty can be found

in a star

without the inky stillness

of the pressing dark?

You worshipped the sun,

and do not see the beauty

embodied in my night.