Veil of Stone

So silently dreamy night comes in, a wave of the rising wintry tide, and over those ancient stones her cool lips kiss the scene with lengthening shadows. How dark and deep they grow, blending together in grand observance. Then it is men look up to the sky—Stars!

It ever is cold when winter draws near, and all along the ground her icy tendrils spread. But to the stones, they are so much colder, no ice dares touch. And by the one still standing rock the virgin lets a sigh, the cry a little cloud quickly dispersed in the air. She leans against this obelisk, her eyes closed tight in prayer, and in a dream she sees for whom she longs.

The wind is cruel and armed with winter’s knives. The breeze cuts the virgin, and she gasps at the frigid touch. Crossing her arms, she shivers slightly, craning her head silently to heaven.

She sings:

You can’t believe in many things,
and my sisters have all made their home.
Yet never came the day for me,
for to find something I’ve never known.

O stars, tell him I cannot wait!
Will I die in this night all alone?
When destiny shall draw him here
will he see through the veil of this stone?