Attic Door

I just had a dream this morning, where the stars were plummeting out of the night sky. It wasn't a bad thing; something indescribably amazing was about to happen, but I woke up before it could.

At midnight the stars swim after us

We’re buoyant on the surface of a melting world

As our eyes regain their sight

Radiance burns through shadow

And out of us the spectral ribbons curl.


We always knew it would be like this.

The stars have come to burn away the fabrication.

We never were afraid

The darkness always soothed

But now we see the attic door.


The stars journey from their homes in the heavens

Singing of the rapture we’ve been waiting for.

The comets come hurtling after them

As we finally step through the attic door.


Lit not by a dim bulb but by everything

That should have been and longed to be

Upstairs, we’ve come to meet the purpose.

What destroys below doesn’t matter anymore.


And as the sun crashes upon the waves,

Interrupting their unseeing violence

We are no longer Calamity slaves

So just rest and enjoy the silence.

The End

1 comment about this poem Feed