The Sailor and the Maiden
(a poem-tale of Star Dreams by Sha’Tara)
I’m old, whispers the white haired man,
dying, and from this life I depart.
A life-long dream I would share
with you, and not with anyone.
She replies, I love you my father,
and am living, in this life remaining alone
and such a life-long dream I would receive
from you, not from anyone.
Then listen carefully to my dream,
come closer, my voice is weak
and have no time to repeat:
open your mind to my vision, child,
reserve judgment on my state of mind.
There is a sailor I have known long
who only knows certainty when on the deck
of a strange and wonderful craft sparkling
under gossamer sails adorned in arabesque;
alight with the fire of a hundred suns.
The sailor is ageless and strong,
never will he speak the lying words of man,
singing only songs from infinity:
in his eyes, my daughter, you will see
the spinning galaxies, the nebulae.
I said, “will see” for he awaits
in his golden suit, at the edge of the sea
for the companion he’s learned to love:
I impressed him of you, and he waits;
you will go to him, and sail his starry seas.
He will call to you so you see the way
and with him depart this earth forever.
I go to your mother beyond the wall;
I would not leave you to mourn and regret
so I molded your heart to his: this you can know.
She looked in her father’s vision
and saw the stranger near the sea;
a longing took her to speed away
and sail the strange ship with him
upon the spreading solar winds.
It is told in stories of old Earth
of a maiden of such surpassing beauty
no man would dare approach or touch,
a lonely and aloof woman who walked to the sea
and rose from the earth on a pillar of fire.