The sky decided for radiance one day in that journey of ours, and it seemed a confession of honest unending light, a penance perhaps, although night would hold firm that eventual death was the answer we might, in dying, desire.
We entered and departed the castle in what seemed a single day, but it was a thousand years we slept and this single day of coming and going. We walked our horses slowly into lingering memories of you as we rode both east and west in one motion of time. That day we found ourselves beside a temptress sea. We stood aside where morning sun made penetrations of light and the sea rolled her gentle heavings toward the shore and the sky.
But it was the grail of your presence we desired. Maybe here, where castle towers fight like celestial gods for men to adore. Maybe here, where you first divided us and sent us wandering together, my own flesh and I. We needed to dream as your dream or was it so that we who made shadows were also forever your dream? You made two hopeless wanderers of us in one direction, yet flesh divided as we awoke each morning to seek you. We spoke no words and even our eyes held silent as we devoured, alone, each thought of you.
Then our horses grew bored and weary and there seemed no finale to this passion of ours that made new distance its home. Had we been here before? Had we tried to turn around and go back while the waves beside us mocked our obsession like your sighs? We hungered still for the trance of you, my lady of these towers.
You gave yourself like this empty boat that takes a sailor, drowning in you, and drowns him in the sea. But you left us not to be sailors nor other men, but knights of postured solitude. We made fires of everything for you, and still this morning sky, for no reason, burns new. I shall ask the other ladies of this castle home how they ride and sleep all night, beside early riders, and then I shall tell them of you.