I see Mercury, Venus and Jupiter align in the night sky
And I say this patch of the sky is mine; but the night only
weaves them close by their nearness. They are not humongous
like the distant stars. These stars that may have fallen like
diminutive crystalline snowflakes in my childhood eye.
Or better still, pasted like soft gems on the vestments of the sky.
Mum used to tell me a story that the stars were little departed children
holding lamps to help their loved ones find their way to them. How simple is
a story! Sometimes, it is worth the while to read myths between
the lines. The ancient narrators had their eyes on the stars before language, and in art!
I see Mum in ascension, if the cow jumps over the Moon; or even if the Solar
System’s endearments flip backward to the dust of Mars! How would I know what I cherish?
Mum’s words are like chords threading the intra-dimensional music. I can waltz,
even when I have grief, thinking of conclusions, resolutions! I swear the Moon is no Mother to us. Her boat of the night
is a crescent-slither waiting ambitiously for our obeisance. You know, I will deeply loathe
the day the Moon takes the hour and seizes power! I will never prostrate myself, then!
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