Nanna
the moon that measures the months
aetherNanna sails his gleaming barque across the night, his crescent the horns of a shining bull, keeper of time and the calm that follows the day; to dream of him is to feel the gentle counting of your nights and trust the dark to pass.
Fragments
Herdsman of the stars, he pens the little lights each night and drives them out again, and by the slow fattening and thinning of his horn the whole world learns to keep the months.
When both his crescent-horns curve upward like a boat, the old ones say the sky itself is a river, and the moon a shepherd rowing home across the deep.
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