Star Daughter

How the myth begins
as always, with this need to explain
the emptiness, the ache
these voices lost in the void

As always, with this need to explain
beginning, middle, end
these voices lost in the void
blossom sun-bright, then falling

Beginning, middle, end
the path labyrinthine in darkness
(blossom sun-bright, then falling)
glass-chime worlds grinding

The path labyrinthine in darkness
though the cave echoes with stardust
glass-chime worlds grinding
the spheres’ music to silence

Though the cave echoes with stardust
with emptiness and ache
the spheres’ music is silent:
how the myth begins

We want to be left alone

studying the starlight—
in our search for habitable worlds
we don’t yet know the mass
or what they’re made of.

In our search for habitable worlds,
compelling clouds may be
what they’re made of;
or a small, dark circle on reddish ball.

Compelling clouds may be
practically in our backyard
with a small, dark circle on reddish ball
(the dimming sun).

Practically in our backyard,
fixed in the sky,
the dimming sun
shows a transiting planet.

Fixed on the sky,
we don’t yet know: this mass
shows a transiting planet
studying our starlight.

 

A pantoum of found phrases from this article on the discovery of “3 strange worlds” and this article about today’s transit of Mercury. Yeah Write’s weekly prompt is “We want to be left alone.”

Journey

What town is this we travel to?
And what will we eat,
how will we live?
Is it even the same sky?

And what will we eat
If we don’t know the words?
Is it even the same sky
touching trees, endless deep?

If we don’t know the words
how will we sing our dreams
touching trees, endless deep?
Will our neighbors speak us welcome?

How will we sing our dreams
in this language hard and new?
Will our neighbors speak us welcome
and can we understand?

In this language hard and new
how will we live
and can we understand
what town this is we travel to?

Day 25 prompt for PAD Chapbook Challenge is “echo poem.” 

Niet Hebben

You will know without telling
the cause of my despair.
I cannot put it into words—
you must return me to life.

The cause of my despair
is in those nights, music-fired.
You must return me to life
under stage lights, roses, cheering.

In those nights, music-fired
I sang for you, for all joy in singing
under stage lights—roses, cheering
like wine, like love pouring.

I sang for you. For all joy in singing
we let slip the weight of brocade
(like wine, like love pouring)
to fill every corner of our need.

I let slip the weight of brocade;
I left the stage lights burning
to fill every corner of our need
time and again. Did you not see

I left the stage lights burning?
I cannot put it into words
time and again. Do you now see?
You will know without telling.

Still thinking about those undelivered letters. This pantoum is for Jane.