Spectrescope

I swing my legs over the uneven boards of the walk and

caress the stars that scatter over the lapping nothingness.

Even the Moon has been rendered

silent before this infinite sea;

So silent tonight, and humbled is She

Stars and fireflies mix as those tiny celestial bodies

leap off the placid surface of the void,

Whispering their living and dying wishes to me

as I breathe them with the mists of dusk and dawn,

Transforming the air around me

into something real and myth.

They say that many of the stars we see have died already,

and it took millions of years for their light to reach us,

But tonight it is just for me,

alone for all the world

in this speck-filled Black.

Can you tell between the fresh spectres and

The ones which will live an eternity more?

Now father is calling me back,

anchored to the shore of my small cosmic miracle.

I wonder if he were to fall in,

would I ever see him again?

Would I go tumbling after him

through all of space and time?

Father's voice cuts through my infinite sea

like the strong bow of a skiff,

forming ripples in the entity

and the imagination that rendered the Moon

I sail his voice back into reality

The sparks that circle into the night sky,

unreachable with my small hands once again

—and forever more—

taunt my insignificance before all of eternity

I ask my father if he's ever fallen in,

but I cannot hear his answer

beneath the cacophony of the blazing night.

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