Analysis of Now and Not Yet

I saw It on a late summer evening, plain as day.
Shadow cascaded down around Its shapeless form.
Like fire, It was warm, and I wanted so badly to become lost in it.
I reached out, yet it shied away as if I were ice.
'No,' It said, voice wispy like the faraway wind. 'Don’t come closer.'
'But I am cold,' I protested.
It said nothing to this, yet it remained there until I’d fallen asleep.
I knew when It had left when the sun began to rise again.

Seasons have passed, and I see It once again.
It engulfs me in a wrap of stars, dripping like molten wax.
I am rendered frozen until I’m too tired to breathe.
Deep beneath Its layers of black gossamer, I see the white of bone.
Then I remember — like fire, It is fatal and disintegrating to the touch.
It’s voice is in my head, formless. 'You are cold'.
'No'. My voice is smaller. Stronger. 'Please, not yet.'
It hesitates, suspended in the air like an unanswered question.
'Not now, then,' It agrees.
I feel It release Its hold on me, and I wake up to another sunrise.