Psalm
A shawl of comfort came with the dark as she stood in her
tartan cloak outside the castle in the deepness of night,
her world lit by a million stars, with no sound but that of
the silken river between reeds and stones, winding towards
the edge of dreams...
she knew each golden, glittering star that hung in the
brooding silence of night...a breath of air brought
fragments of song from the chapel far below, tugging her
heartstrings, bidding her go...but then one night great
blackness fell, leaden, silent and heavy...and she heard
the whisper of owls wings, and met the glint of his golden
eyes...trees were black on a blacker sky...no moon, no
light, no psalm of the stars and the river sullenly
silent...
until at last at the rise of sun, beyond the luminous edge
of the hills, Cessford came alive...and there in greening
grass of spring lay millions and millions of golden stars
that had fallen from velvet skies...
for days they shone, and smiled, and sang laments for
blackened nights.. and the Night Gods listened...
slowly the golden stars became puffs of white, and a
playful wind chased over the grass filling the air with her
Dandelion wishes...which dance still in the nightimes
skies... as she sings her Psalm to those golden stars!
pim claridge