A mourning dawns like a black sun,

Slipping like a shadow through the heavens.

Unseen, it is not caught by the sky and

In three days it will touch the earth once more.

Below a woman facing west waits.

For the second time her waters have broken, for

She has cried her heart dry, but it has not cracked.

Her hope will be the beacon that brings him back.

Above a father stands staring south.

As the sun crosses the sky, he does not stop it,

But lets the warmth leave him. For he knows that people

Are re-born when stars guide them through the night,

So no crying he makes at the dying of the light.