As the sons of the dark cloud came pouring,
Came pouring on every nook and cranny,
That the sons of men in absentia feared,
And there she was, being watered; a plant in a rejected garden.

A voice galloped from behind,
From behind an echo of summoning,
causing her a turn to behold the source,
As the tears poured out in hymns that hold no record.

It was a friend, she said My friend.

A friend who knew too well her lover,
A friend who knew her beginnings with the one she loves,
That friend closer than a relative,
And this friend struck the drum with an utterance,
Cease your tears I know where he is.

Only walk with me,

As they journey, shivering she may seem but undeterred she was,
Are you sure she kept asking? Are you sure she asked still?
For as they went images of her lover came speaking,
A flicker of smiles found its way upon a lip though the waters poured heavier still.

Not long to make another turn the cloud screamed,
And the lightning sneezed like one jolt she looked behind,
And beheld a shadow approaching...

To be continued


© Nathanael Haert