melissaahowells
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Night leaned in and laid out
His stars bright and infinite and Mars looked back over Its rolled shoulders and did not blink the Old Hunter is now going to bed and I see Him turning to His rest I wonder, how He sleeps... in the near-distance the mountains of men pale, un-moving in the moonlight they stand tall and rigid mute unthinking monuments.. though thought went into them once their many-closed-eyes curtained and inscrutable so many-celled hives for living beings not awake and always asleep, unlike me I want to feel what its like to be Stars to be brilliant though finite in Their infinity ..T to make a pattern in Their sky so that beings beneath and beyond may see and lay claim enough to make one singular wish I see in Them intelligence which knows no bounds Their silent witnessing back lingers down into my depths into the bowl that is the hollowness of this Dying Planet and Humanity how we could have better loved and lived our honorable stewardship of ALL that makes up Life and that, for me,tonight, is and could have been, all the difference. Legal Copyright For This Poetry written directly to the page 2:17AM PST June 26,2020 time and date stamped...to ensure copyright. And also for this legally copyrighted poet Melissa A. Howells and for her legally REGISTERED and copyrighted site title Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-A-World written during one of my many wakeful moments in the NIGHT. Vote for this poem |
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