Pale Rider

Pale Rider in the dark sunset,
Where does the vision past?
Who marks the color of time?

Life’s real or an illusion?
making the multicolored night
streams of consciousness unreal

I saw a Lunar Child
basking in neon.
She is white and pure,
A creature of the moon,
but innocent

Pale Rider scales the dusk
in vast open Technicolor,
driven by the power of one
searching endlessly for a love

Dusk
to dawn
he parades the night.
The Lunar Child stays sitting, waiting
looking, praying,
but the rider moves alone.

His eyes are blind to his needs
blind for all to see.
The Lunar Child sits alone -
waiting like an archangel
waiting to ease his pain,

But he moves slowly
confused by the night,
and time,
and love.

© 1999 Joseph B. St. John

Find more by Joseph B. St. John in the Author Index

Comment on this story in the Aphelion Forum

Return to Aphelion's Index page.