Archive
09/25/09 - (2)
The Stars
It's a perfectly clear, moonless two o'clock, And I'm still sitting out here, at the end of the dock, Not at all chilled by its fifty-degree subtleties,
Star-watching, stargazing, star-probing, Through my eyes' amazing telescopes, Holding the entire cosmos in my own close focus,
Locating and naming all the night sky's constellations, Conversing with old soul mates, new friends, Getting to know total strangers.
For the life of my life, More physically, viscerally, palpably Than literally, figuratively, metaphorically, even spiritually,
I owe the infinity of stars my every breath. Without their ancient presences illuminating time, A vast, black dimension would backlight my somatic space.
09/25/09 - (2)
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