Glittering mysteries of the heavens once held my eyes, a boy

on his back in the churning grass naming constellations


The figures of gods and heroes in dots and lines

soon diffused in telescopes and spectrographs

from maps and myths into stars and asteroids

with souls of hydrogen and helium and fire


Ethereal heavens of invisible spirits dissipated on streets

of corrupted cities where heroes and gods lived

only in movie theaters, cathedrals and coliseums,

places that kept the universe small


My house is lit now by the glow thrown onto

ceilings and walls by lamps and chandeliers

We sit together late at night, a gathering of friends,

joking about mortality, looking out windows,

curious to see where our questions will lead us


Once alone I sit on the front porch swing,

feet naked on cool cement,

wordless in the splendor of solemn darkness,

listening to the sounds of anonymous creatures

I cannot name or comprehend


At the instant before sleep I watch last flecks

of light reflecting inside the lids of my thoughts,

excited to know if I will wake, and if I do,

whether to shade or a brighter dimension,

dying to know the place where heaven shines,

or if it shines at all