what interests me in science is observation,
wistful watching,
languid and lethargic
like plumeria scented
summer-warm evening air.
considering, with curiosity,
suns called stars
and their radiant offspring
teasing out identity in the dark
in a multitude of mythical
concocted constellations.
I enjoy the confidential intimacy
of the delinquency of starlight.
knowing, in truth, the light’s a lie.
that what I currently see
is light unveiled from eons ago
marvelous spectral disciples
that travel only outward
tiptoeing into infinity
at three hundred million meters per second
with such enviable tenacity
in artful evasion of connection
to its luminous debut.
leaving me to see
this connect-the-dots celestial tapestry,
dust-embroidered myths
of gods and goddesses,
objects and beliefs.
folly perhaps
or fairy tale wisdom
to align mythologies
to earthly agonies.
my solace is to favor
Joni’s notion from ’69 -
to be golden, to be stardust
akin to billion-year-old carbon
crafting bargains
with angels or devils
or whoever cares
to listen to me grieve
that maybe we are
just illusions of ecstasy
and what endures is
love, death, and other fantasies.
—Ed Sancious
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