One morning a couple of weeks ago there was a single star in the morning sky--the North Star, I believe--and though that's probably not unusual to see at that time of the morning (a night owl like me wouldn't know!), it was especially striking against a pastel sky with smoky clouds.
I literally froze in my tracks, my flip-flop clad feet feeling the chill of the wet grass, when I looked up and saw it. I had to just stare at it for a while. It's rare that my thoughts grind to a halt, but I was really in awe of something beautiful that I, with my odd sleeping habits, have rarely, if ever, seen.
Later that night looking at the same star, joined by all its little heavenly pals, the thoughts resumed and I knew I wanted to weave them together into a poem about that unforgettable sky view. There are many meanings in this one, woven like a tapestry of words. These are always my favorite kinds of poems to write. I hope you guys enjoy this one, and if you do, let me know...
A single star hangs in the center
of this morning's rose and lilac sky.
I stand, transfixed, unable to breathe,
struck by its beauty
but even more by its meaning.
The low grey clouds literally curl around it,
looking much like incense smoke
rising in tendrils to a higher place.
There is no one else here to witness this.
I am the mirror image of the wistful star.
Much later, in the absence of daylight,
I stand beneath the celestial sequin.
Though now joined by hundreds more,
it still glimmers more brilliantly
than any other that graces the night.
These bits of heaven can never travel and touch.
No two can ever occupy the same space.
But their candescence cannot be repressed.
Unclouded, they will fill the sky and light the earth.
It is lovely yet lonely work.
Wrapping my worn cloak of reclusion
around chilly shoulders illumined by the moon,
at last I understand that some soul space
can never be joined together with a lover.
But letting the gleam tumble forth unburdened
is the song of love itself.
photo credit: Jun Acullador via flickr