Jhan Poem by Gabrielle Ciarann Roniyah Baer

Standing in the ruins of a rainworld home,
a second home,
more vital than her first,
she weeps.

These are the ruined choirs
of singers who will not live to sing,
These are the knife shards
of their shining galaxy of dreams.
These are the deep mourned children
of generations few can count.

Kneeling
in the havoc of a murderous pride,
his bleak pride,
more frightening because she knows its cause,
she trembles.

These were the gifted,
the beautiful,
the ever-young.
These were the guardians
the day-bright warriors
the would be magi.
These were the Jedi,
sorceror knights,
ancient of days,
wise, wondrous and innocent.

No longer running
fleet as a golden hind
from the Force-given fate
that pursues her,
pursuing all like her to death,
she turns.

Bowing
to the shatterer of worlds
the killer of a thousand dreams,
dreams once learned side by side,
she laughs.
'Kind, my lord, '

His sabre quenched, she laughs no more.
These are the dark times,
but she is freed.

written in June,1979