“One day, six years ago today, I was gazing up at the cool, magical sky when a mysterious incident unfolded. This is what I will tell you. So, give me your attention and listen carefully.”
John said softly, then pressed his finger to his lips with a whisper, “Shhh!”
“It was a cold and lonely evening in November. As usual, I was tired and frustrated after a long day of work. It was nearly 8 PM.”
“I stepped outside my front door, carrying a can of beer and some meat. The chilly air bit at my skin, and the wind was steady and cold. It was a breathtaking November night. I walked into the front yard, spread out the mat I had brought, then went to the storeroom to fetch some logs and a jar of kerosene. I arranged the logs like a campfire, lit them, and settled onto the mat with my beer.”
‘”just like today”
John paused for a moment, drawing in a deep breath. He looked serene, almost as if he was about to sing.
“Are you going to sing now? What about the story…?”, I stared at John.
Before I could finish, John quickly replied.”No, it’s not a song. It’s a poem. The verses will tell the rest of the story, and I want you to pay special attention to the final stanza.”
He began:–
Amid the starry sky, a night of cold November—
Afar, above the running clouds, I still remember.
That night—’twas many years before, when days were mild;
’Twas many long Decembers ago, beneath that magical sky.
That strike, as I gazed alone upon the magical height,
Where scattered clouds lay cozy, and the wandering winds took flight.
Between the gleaming stars, I thought I saw a shooting star;
But no—what bloomed instead was a blazing ball of fire, afar.
That night, over the running clouds—I still remember—
Afar, amid the stars, a night of cold November.
In haste, with all my strength, I tried to mark the place,
Up high, where masses of light had met in bright embrace.
There I beheld a winged seraph—lost beneath the stars.
I stood there, startled, frozen, staring straight afar.
Ahead, the starry sky, that night of cold November,
Where I discerned an angel rise—I still remember—
Between the drifting clouds, glossed by the gloomy night.
And down through the winning clouds, she came into my sight.
An unborn fear awoke inside my fearless soul,
As I saw her falling toward the dark and sooty knoll—
Where I was standing, gazing at the starry sky,
While frozen winds blew fierce beneath the clouds on high.
I was frozen still, that night of cold November,
For an angel I had seen—I still remember.
She landed gently, burning snowy ruts in ground;
The whisking winds swept all the dust and dirt around.
Her dress was torn, her wings in shreds, her face so pale;
Her eyes were closed, and all her light began to fail.
A magical stick she held—a broken, splintered rod,
And in her other hand, a bleeding, battered sword.
The clouds then grumbled, calling thunder, light, and rain—
The raindrops fell upon her eyes, as if to share her pain.
Then, hastily, I approached and gently held her near,
And slowly I returned, my steps both heavy and sincere.
That starry, rainy night of cold November,
That frozen girl was you—I still remember.
