Teruvil Varano
Is that his arrival I hear?
Is that the rattle of his staff?
Will his path be narrow and stern,
carved deep in the stone of my fate?
Or will it be a wandering river
that spills at my door, untamed?
Should I meet his gaze with coy, doe-like eyes,
Or let my longing shine like the moon on restless water?
He seems so distant, yet his presence seeps into my bones.
Far and near, a heartbeat drawing closer, closer still.
The time is passing.
Did you hear him?
Will he come to me at last
Or must I wait till the day swallows the dark?
