The Amaranthine Poet

The Golden Myrrhmaid and the Emptied Sky

I used to be the sun but I ran away. I used to be the sun, the iridescent aura governing the day. The birds would implore me to guide them as they fly, but their beating wings would cast grisly shadows against the battered sky. The world would ask me to radiate its path, but would build its days upon hatred and wrath. So, I ran away; I jumped out from my lofty corner of the twilight sky and dove into the deep of the ocean, awaiting the next black morning when I would hear the world cry. They implored the stars to move closer and burn away the persistent night; they asked the thunder to strike the earth and give them a moment of light…but no starlit thunderstorm could smite away the darkness the way I could–and how their bulging eyes searched and their bloody hands beckoned for me to return, but I didn’t think I should. So, I stayed in the ocean and became a mermaid soaring below the violent earth within the violet sea. The sea creatures told me that the sweet scent of the sky, like myrrh, and the fragrant nectar of a burning garden constantly lingered around me. They also noticed a golden glow which poured from my flesh and burned through my eyes which would not fade–and for these reasons, the sea renamed me and I was no longer known as “The Sun”, but rather as “The Golden Myrrhmaid.”

One day, I was visited by five beautiful sirens of the sea. Their hair was like flowing ephemeral clouds and their backs were arched gracefully. Each siren was a different color–one was yellow, one red, one green, one violet, and the other, indigo. When I inquired of this they told me a secret they thought I should know. Each siren had once been a color of the rainbow; however, like me, they fled from the world and left the sky. I pressed my golden fingers against my blazing face and asked the sirens, “why?”

“Because once you ran away, the moon became pale and weary because he deeply missed you. Once he realized you were never coming back he jumped out of the sky and ran away too…and because a rainbow can only be seen behind some form of light, we had no choice but to leave the sky once the world became a permanent midnight. So, now we are all sirens–singing nostalgic songs about our friend, the sun, who ran away. Our songs beckon lost sailors whose remorseful hearts have led them astray. As they become enraptured by our sad melodic emotion, they dive into the blue to find you, but instead, drown in the spiteful ocean.”

Hearing this made me very sad, but all I could think about was the sweet sadness of the bashful moon. I never imagined he cared so much; although, I do recall how he’d discreetly stalk me behind the velvet mist of each afternoon. I shut my eyes as my overwhelming thoughts fell from my heart and crumbled into my hands like autumn leaves in the birth of December. I was The Golden Myrrhmaid now…I forsook my days as The Sun and forsook my desire to remember. I left the world because it became swollen with a storm of hatred and sin. I, being The Sun, was omniscient during the day and the malice of man made the walls of my heart become thin. I hadn’t intended to leave the world alone and destitute…but, when I tried to speak to the world, the world was deaf, and so, I became mute. Yes, it may have seemed wrong of me not to stay, but truly, the world was enveloped in its own darkness long before I went away…

I sighed deeply and when I opened my eyes again I saw a silver angel swimming toward me. His flesh was covered in deep scars but embellished with brilliant stars and his eyes smiled at me. His white wings were vast ivory clouds billowing with the currents and I began to recognize him quite soon. The silver creature gathered me into his arms and I realized that he was, indeed, the moon. Looking into his discerning eyes, my heart began to melt and I felt, at that moment, something I had never before felt. Tangled in his soul and dangling from his mouth was the wailing of the world but as he leaned in to kiss me…the burden of the wailing world ascended from his mouth and disappeared out of the sea. The darkness of the world had overwhelmed and emptied the entire sky…and yet, although we sat upon the bottom of the ocean floor, our souls were soaring high. I looked into his crescent eyes and a blazing love grew. Such an unfathomable fate…but in essence…I knew, he knew, we always knew.

Jenna Awad
The Amaranthine Poet

P.S. The rainbow in the story is an allegory of hope (I know, I am obsessed with allegories). The rainbow had to leave the sky once the only sources of light did, thus, delivering the idea that without some form of goodness/light, there can exist no form of hope for malice…or rather, hope is still in existence, but more difficult to attain since it cannot be seen; therefore–although ironically put–”pure” evil/darkness has little to no hope for a change to good, considering that darkness is, fundamentally, the absence of light. Once the sun and the moon left, the world was enveloped in its own darkness, and hope, eventually, left.

©Jenna Awad. All rights reserved. Unauthorized duplication without express permission by the author by any means, mechanical, electronic or otherwise is a violation of all application laws.

The Bluebird’s Lament

Two proud bluebirds built a very proud nest, laid their eggs, watched them all hatch, then shut their eyes so that they could rest.
During their untimely slumber, an eagle flew by and stole the smallest newborn bird whose feather’s most resembled the deep blue of the sky.
The eagle flew him far beyond the Turkish trees and over the wide and solaced seas,
She flew for days until her wings became tired and her body went numb and she spotted a little girl on the land crying over a broken drum.
The eagle, having grown fond of the bluebird and not wanting him to die, dropped him inside the girl’s broken drum and stumbled away as she said goodbye.
The bluebird looked up at the little girl and asked her why she was sobbing. She told him that her drum had broken and could no longer beat like a heart with its rhythmic throbbing.
Seeing that she was quite distraught all day long, the bluebird took pity on her, swallowed the sunshine and sang to her the most beautiful song.
The girl smiled and seeing that the bluebird was completely alone, told him that if he sang for her everyday, he could live within her home.
Over the years, the bluebird grew quite fond of the girl and with the accumulation of that thereof, his heart began to beat with a rhythmic throbbing and he fell for her, deeply in love.
The bird was silent with his affection, but with each day, was secretly falling apart; so, he told the girl that he held her deep within his little drum heart.
She told him that she could not love someone whose body was covered in blue feathers, so, that night he plucked each one out and was sure that they could now be together.
But then she told him that she could not love someone who had no arms of which to hold her in, so, he fled to a rose garden where two fairies slept and chopped an arm off of each sleeping fairy twin.
Then he cut off his wings and put the fairy arms where his wings once were and went to the girl in the hopes that he might have finally appeased her.
But the girl sighed and said she could not love someone who was so poor and told him that if he fell into great riches she would not ask for anything more.
So, the bluebird set off and came across a man with jewels of great sorrow held in his eyes, his body dripped with myrrh and he was writing a trembling letter in the dull glow of the moonrise.
The bluebird watched as the man finished the letter and sent it to God in a white balloon; he turned to the bird and told him that he was a wealthy king whose wife had just perished in an angry fire that very afternoon.
The bird frowned but continued on his way; he swallowed the moonlight, lifted up his voice, and the moon, the stars and sky were all envious as he began to sing.
Then he stopped as he heard the man say, “If only I had such a singing voice, I could sing away all my sorrows. I tell you, it would be a far greater gift than being a wealthy king.”
The bluebird suddenly had a brilliant idea and he began to rejoice; saying, “Dear King, if you give me your riches, your kingdom, and your throne, I will give you my beautiful voice!”
The king agreed, so the bluebird cut out his tongue, the king swallowed it and began to sing as he took off his crown and made the bluebird, king.
The king had become a poor man, but with a happy heart and the bluebird could not wait for his life with his love to start.
The girl, finding that the bird was now what she wanted, married him that day and with their marriage came a multitude of happy tears. However, the bliss in the bluebird’s heart did not last, could not stay, for he became very distraught after just a few years.
He began to long for all the things he once had; the bluebird had changed who he was and thus, became terribly sad.
He missed his feathers, he missed each blue wing, and most of all, he missed his ability to sing.
The bluebird built a boat out of pieces of gold and rotting trees and became a blue sailor who sailed far out just to be alone to cry in the solaced seas.
He knew that riches meant nothing if love was not true, and the little bluebird became so blue, so very blue.
His heart was broken like the girl’s drum which could no longer beat with a rhythmic throbbing and the bluebird went out into the deep of the emerald forest and began sobbing.
He wept so much that a river formed and began to swell and rise,
and the poor little bluebird drowned in the tears which fell from his very own eyes.

Jenna Awad
The Amaranthine Poet