Easily Fooled

We humans can be fooled
by the corner streetlight
pouring its harsh false moon,
while in the same view
the stars seem far and faint and tiny.
We think we are mighty
because the streetlights shrink us to earth.
But in the multiverse,
we lose our bearings.

The mess of wires overhead
tries to grab my eyes,
trick me into resisting,
and stop my sight of twilight sky behind.
Though still they crisscross in the air,
I barely see the cables anymore.
I’ve learned to dive direct
into striking sunset colors.

But oh to have lived before
we covered up the firmament.
I would travel back to then,
and lift my eyes to stellar space
gladly yielding
to the quilted pillow of dark
where I would so deeply
rest my spirit.

If I had lived before the streetlights,
before the wires in the sky,
if my rhythms
could accord with nature’s—
I’d wake with light and sleep with dark
and recall with every breath,
my wee and impeccable
place in the world.

And so I decide to do,
living in a town, making wires disappear.
I shield my eyes from streetlights
to gaze at stars whose light ,
even through our shadowed atmosphere,
arrives to hearten me.
I remember the starstuff I come from,
and thus I deeply rest my spirit.