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