They beseech the sun in a herald
of darkness
and lay hold over the land with their
phantasmagoric power.
They bring forth shade and blacken
alleys and fields,
freezing parched land that once lay desolate.
You dance at their arrival and
hold your breath as they eclipse the sun's furry.
To bring a comfort to the land and
a longing in the ground,
gifts which often stir not the scenery.
They revel in joy,
they revel in a blissful uncertainty.
The eclipse sets for its obscure eye to
block the sun's hate and distaste.
The eclipse sheds forth the cool warmness which
caresses the land and it's people.

©2000 Michael Casares