no. 77

of light in the dark, no. 6

corona:

the halo of a star

millions of miles wide

a befitting crown

vain cassiopeia, lend me your diadem

i too, want to placed in the firmament

generously and without prejudice

shine down upon cold and warm planets alike

like you, my light will be harsh and unforgiving

still, some below will bask in the glow

renaming it for me; reimagining its sentiment

millions of light years away

and long after i collapse into myself

with the unimaginable force of inevitability

i will be remembered

(written 1 may 2018)

no. 73

 

of light in the dark, no. 5

the ship, buoyed on all sides, knows neither up nor down

no push, no pull in this place where suspension is its only companion

 

the rendering of existence almost impossible in this place

 

that is how dark it is; obsidian and ink, ebony and pitch fall short

but all light has not been swallowed by infinitum’s jaws

 

like odysseus, the captain has tied himself to the mast

he sees multitudes, cosmic wingless fireflies

they are the stars that will serenade him

 

his crew will not listen, they plug at their control boards busily

as he bravely faces the music of the ages, traveling at the speed of sound

 

he hears all they refuse to note; sees all they do not wish to observe

he is consumed by its excruciating beauty and struggles to free himself

from his tethers to follow the brightest beacon

 

he knows they will soon be home

(written 16 april 2018)

no. 54

searching for the northern lights

they always seem to be behind those

tall, spindly pines

whose short, downturned branches are

broken off like spent matchsticks.

sometimes, when i feel that the dark is drawing close,

i think i see them

orangey pink, scintillating, just above the clouds,

but then i wonder:

maybe it’s just the sunset

or light pollution, a wish for serendipity.

i am riding the night bus

and will reach my destination shortly;

the glimpse of my aurora fades into the city lights.

(written 15 september 2015)

no. 51

of light in the dark, no. 3

light, bathe me

sun-drop, moon breath, aurora glow

submerge me in a heady liquor of

fast-moving electrons

unseen manifestations of dark matter

ultra-violet violence of particles

scour until the point of purification

until i glow like the stars

in the black sea of the universe

(written 26 march, 2018)

no. 44

of light in the dark, no. 2

it creeps slowly into my window

the wash of morning comes sooner every day

candles are unnecessary; the muted coziness demanded by the winter

will slowly be replaced by bursts of color

whose vibrancy is showcased by sunlight

i open my heart to let winter out

i relinquish my protective coat of silence and introspection

and breathe in the greenness of buds and shoots

the freshness of squelching mud and

the noisiness of nature all around

allowing life to knock my bones out of their long sleep

my arteries and veins surge, brain awash in stimulatory synapses

my body becomes the garden

as tendrils grow from the depths of my being

now the brightness blooms

 

(written 18 february 2018)