Ode To Aurora Poem by Wendel Souza

Come, Sister of the Sun,
Glorious Lady of the Dawn, arise!
Turn thy radiant face upon the world,
And cast the fleeting shadows of the night
Into the depths where darkness hides.
Stretch forth thy golden hand,
And greet the Warrior wounded, weary,
From endless battle with the demon Acedia.

Thy golden light enwraps him, firm and bright,
His body falls upon the dew-kissed earth,
His trembling flesh, once torn and broken, wakes
At whispers soft as winds through royal veils
That brush his skin with tender grace.

Thy breasts, O fountains of the dawn,
Receive his brow, furrowed and tired,
As sweetly murmured songs dispel
The bitter vapors of the night.
Atlas himself casts off the weight
That once pressed heavy on his back.

Thy hands, divine and full of light,
Touch the scars that mar his form;
From them pours fire—pure, untainted,
That burns and cleanses, heals the wound.
Flesh joins to flesh, as light consumes
The thickened dark. The marks of Acedia,
By thy holy hand, are swept away.

From thy furnace, fierce and bright,
Flows forth the sacred life,
Through veins once cold and sealed in stone.
The wells within him overflow
With waters kindled by thy flame.

Thy hands, at last, do seek the place
Where once his strength lay buried deep.
With gentle grace, thou build'st anew
A monument within his soul,
And from the shadow draws him forth,
To fight no longer bound in chains.

A new spear thou dost forge for him,
Thy fingers run along the blade,
And with thy breath of molten fire,
The metal bends and rises strong.
In mighty, swelling ecstasy,
The Warrior stands, his pillar raised,
Erect, it shines—a beam of light.
Restored, reborn, he takes his place
Once more to face the demon's fight,
The Warrior Divine, renewed,
To vanquish Acedia once again.