Chapter 1.

The summer sun dies beneath the autumn mists and rain, and I walk along a broken road
watching the ceremony of changing seasons with a dejected stare.
I watch with a heart of guilt and know that it was indeed the waters of my being that
smothered the fire of the sun.
A new star dances in the firmament and I can behold her magical glittering through the iron
sky-prison of clouds.
Yet her lofty domain, where ghostly nebulas radiate with hues that promise the birth of new
worlds, seems so utterly beyond my reach.
I ponder the probability that I might somehow capture her from the heavens to enfold her in
my mortal embrace.
She looks upon me with eyes shaded in the pigments of an unblemished azure sky, and as I
meet her gaze I see in the depths of her lovely orbs a longing...a need to be captured by
someone who holds the key to liberate her from an unfulfilling existence.
From time to time she descends unto my earthly kingdom and dances to the music of life with
me.
Her smile brings me more joy to behold than does a new sun rising at the stroke of dawn.
Her laughter is filled with more glorious music than a monastery of Gregorian monks at the
hour of worship.
She looks upon me with eyes full of rediscovered joy, as if she had found in me the lost lover
who she thought would never return to her.
When she touches me with her playful limbs, I feel in the electric stimulation of her touch a
desire to experience the strength of my embrace.
But, lo, she never stays with me for long, for she is not mine.
She belongs only to Necessity, to her need to roam free.
She is the Star Goddess, Sirona, and I am the Stargazer who admires her dazzling radiance
with a pure and unselfish appreciation for her beauty.
She is a star that longs to be chased across the mythical tracks of the Cosmos.
In her need to be captured she indeed allows me to chase her, but it seems her long￾repressed desire beckons her to act selfishly in pursuit of her much-needed attainment.
I have seen the stirring in her Soul when looking upon her beautiful form as she darts to and
fro across cosmic pathways.
My ears hear the calling heard in the primal center of her being--the call of the Wild--I hear it
even more clearly than she can, for I am the sounder of the horn.
I place my lips upon the hollowed end of that bejeweled and gilded bone and breathe without
remorse, although I understand that she may never reciprocate my shout of desire with a call of
her own.
And yet it was her call to me that resounded in my being and spurred me to look upward into
the shadowed skies and observe her.
I saw her only because she longs to be discovered by the eyes of her opposite, for as she
flashes so lovely across the fields of night she desires to be appreciated in a new way, by a new
object.
Her dispossession of fulfillment echoes across the shifting landscapes of time like the starved
roar of a captured beast.
She is the mortal representative of the Moon in all three of its phases: in her laughter I hear
the transformative incantations of the Crone, in her eyes I see the curiosity and playfulness of
the Maiden, and in her heart I glimpse the kindness and nurturance of the Mother.
She is the Moon and I am the Sun.
And our desire is the light of the world....
© Leonard Rocco Grillo