For countless time I've wandered through the world, from high mountains to endless green plains, having the sun as the only company. I still remember that time, though it seems so far away now... the deep, blue skies, the warm sunrays on my face. The light - gods, the light! So pure, so fair, so... wonderful.
I remember when I used to wake up before the dawn only to stare at her. I could see her for only a few minutes - but that little moment was enough to send shadows away. I rose from the bed in a hurry and ran to the hills next to the sea. The night was going, and the skies had many colours. The sea was calm, endless gray, roaring slowly as a slumbering giant. The stars were long gone but one. The last star in the sky, gmimmering as any other, amazing as the most pure white diamond. And in the white sand I sat, all alone, with both my eyes fixed with astonishment in the Morning Star. My secret love.
I cannot say for sure what happened. For many years I did the same morning ritual. For many years she was there only for me. Those mere minutes were worth a life time.
And then she didn't come. She was there, high in the morning skies as before. But she wasn't there for me anymore. Her light seemed so cold, so pale... she wasn't mine anymore. Something changed, someone appeared.... I don't know. In that moment, all I could do was to stare at what was not mine anymore and cry.
Then I ran. I don't know for how long. I just ran for no place, trying in despair to find some place to hide from the searing light. The same light that conforted me so many times was killing me. I needed to run away. I needed darkness.
When I left my hideout, the world was dark. The skies were deep black, full of little stars. The world was quiet, silent, cold. But inexplicably warm, surprisingly comfortable. I could feel the soft wind caressing my skin, wiping the long dry tears in my face. I could feel a strange touch in my soul, while my sorrow and sadness vanished. It was the night I could see all around me. But the touch wasn't hers.
I reached the hills next to the sea, where I used to be by the morning. The sea remained there, as a great black lake, eternal mirror of the distant sky. I turn my eyes to the stars. She was there. But the presence I felt was not hers.
It was the Moon. The full Moon was rising in the bleak skies, pure with his radiant light. The seas shone in silver below her, and the darkness embraced her light. It was like a dream. Evanescent, unique, unreal. And there I remained, sitting alone in the hill, while she patiently healed my sunburns. The Morning Star was still there, high in the skyes, shining as before. But my eyes never turned to her again.
