Island of the Stars

These stars,

Their watchful congeniality, spread

Across a black blanket of dignified gentility.

Allow soul and body to detach in the darkness,

For the retina has no earthly manacle,

And the heart no weighty ache.

No frost will clench your roaming spirit

If you absorb the darkest empty swell:

This spacious place of moving power

Will ignite the star in your desire.

There is no haze or confusion

In this cataclysm of marvellous serenity.

This wide starlit panorama is not marred, nor blemished

In any way unholy;

It is wondrous.

Stars surge hourly in this enormous dome of beauty and elegance.

Welcome each star to its slot:

“Home to see me, stella.”

Sift for fame through the billions of white specks;

Constellations swirl about the black fabric of space;

Slowly they collect about some point of calibration.

Virtual dots and real dots,

All dancing round the magnetic maypole of the soul’s potential.

Stars guide thoughts and pacify questions,

Still, as land sways—

Contrary to appearances,

But ever-steady in steady pace.

Let soul and body unite again in the chorus:

This compact universe of infinity

Just a lightyear away from perfect understanding;

All circles are enjoined.

The End

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