The Night Sky

THE NIGHT SKY

As I look into the night sky
I feel the immense comfort of the darkness.
The only points of light are distant
To the point of nothingness, as harmless as streetlamps.

But that is only perspective.
Vast clouds of dust and gas impede our view.
Little light reaches our tiny planet.
And our vision is forever limited.

We do not see the crunching together of galaxies,
the wolves that ride in the night consuming elephants,
the worms that ride in their bellies
before exploding into edifices,
the wild constructs of insane nature,
before it corrupts into its own deficiencies,
before it is devoured by the light,
which is the production of its own decay,
and its own falling together into massive formlessness,
beyond decency, beyond control, beyond comprehension,
beyond amazement, beyond advertisement, beyond notion even,
beyond every force of nature known to us,
beyond God, beyond the Hounds of Hell, beyond
beyond, beyond, beyond.

At the center of a star oxygen, nitrogen,
helium, all known gases, become iron.
We see nothing of this, but the iron
is in our blood and without it we are water.

Truly we are worms, that only eat
into the wolf’s belly.

But still I look into the night sky
and see comfort in its peace.
Ever constant, never changing,
that is how we wish the universe to be.

But yet it is flung, vast indefinable distances,
from some point never established,
never establishable.
To what purpose? In what direction?
There may not even exist any direction.
We may not understand the concept of direction,
which has a point of beginning and a destination,
only suffering and annihilation.

How can we come to terms with this?

As I look at the night sky,
I see a soft fog descending,
blanketing the mountain,
but this soft fog is death.

I also want the morning light,
in which the fog is driven away
and the stone rock face is once more seen
in all its clarity,
lifeless but perceptible,
and where I know I can once more
receive my maker.


Nov 2010.