Pax et Nyx

The Nyte
the velvet belly of Nyx
spangled with ten billion stars
suddenly clear and shiny in a crystalline sky
a sky no longer awash in harshness
no longer diluted by street lights

My breath erupts in puffy clouds
dissipating before they are known
My footfalls crisp and crunchy

Silence has called me to this place
a hidden undulating undertow
pulling me from the arms of Noise and Palaver
a silent siren
pulling me away from warmth and close comforts
an eilig
an aptness for flow
a gorwyn desire for solitude

And so I drift beneath
the velvet belly of Nyx
spangled with ten billion stars

All thought evaporates with my breath
the complexities of the day dilute
then dissolve in the vastness of the open nyte
I wonder that the Moon does not show her face
Leaving the nyte to her dark sister

After a timeless time
after a few frozen miles of field and meadow
I find my pockets nicely empty
and no longer have to remember
how many shillings in a quid

She finds me wandering in this vulnerable state
She comes to me . . .
and with unbearable gentleness she touches me
Her hand is not cold

The essence of Her perfume fills my head
a fearful moment
a feeling of falling
a tipping of the tide
and I fear I’ll drown in the cold
fear that I might not find my way back
fear I might not want to . . .

Pax et Nyx

Published by

Chyfrin the Celtic poet

Artist, Poet, Electrical/Biomedical Engineer, Actor, Playwright, Set construction, Educator, Lover of womankind and single malt scotch

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