In the dusky blue of early evening
Venus emerges like a lantern in the west
then Jupiter following loyally
like a light bearing knight;
three fat seals lay above the tide line,
one snorting and belching in his sleep,
dreaming of deep water and fish;
a pair of otters swim beneath them
floating in the flood, waiting for dinner
as Sirius fires in the east,
then Orion’s great scabbard
with Betelgeuse then Aldebaran pointing
toward the twinkling sisters of Pleiades;
the seal disturbs a flock of resting geese
who honk off to the nearby bay
as Mars, Ursa Major, Polaris and more
fill the sky with unfathomable patterns;
when daylight completely vanishes
thousands of stars shine
through the dark form of towering firs
crossed by the shadows of bat and owl,
speaking the secret life of Earth
that was and is and without vanity shall be
within the vast envelope of heaven.
I am honour for first comment. You, friend Don, responded in such large manner to my excitable passion for the guiding light of our vast galactical array. they guide. So wonderfully expressed in this poem, Don. Thank you from deepest heart.
Cosmotic rapture…
Even though you speak of risk, I find “…speaking the secret life of Earth…within the vast envelope of heaven” to be very comforting. I appreciate your reminding us of the beauty that represents the power of this planet in cooperation with unfathomable patterns of the sky.
What a narrow path we walk…acknowledging the beauty of earth and sky while keeping up with the truth behind the news. Knowing the wholeness of celestial patterns gives me strength to trust the design that is mine to live.
Deep thanks for speaking on behalf of those whose voices are seldom heard over the clamor of human civilization.
Indeed, all is at risk. I hope I never fully understand why humanity insists on being at war. Any reasons put forth reveal the tinny sound of what they actually are – merely excuses. As long as there are excuses, there will never be any changes. Thank you for focusing on the true calling, our responsibility to be stewards; protectors and participants in life.
Have humans always had to step as if each twig were a precious relic? Have we always felt the great world to be at risk?
We once believed an angry God would destroy Creation. We see now that the anger is our own. Were we ever more than visitors waiting to disappear?
Exquisite. These, and the mountains are the beings I find most resonant, purely attuned to the deep quiet joy of being alive.