I have gazed into the night, wandered
her vastness, communed with spirits
she harnessed in the stars. I do not fear
Orion’s arrows. Great Bear’s claws do not
menace, and as much as I strain, I cannot
hear Lyre’s notes. They are merely stories,
legends hurled from the heavens.

Do not pray. Do not send offerings up
to the night. Fish and flying horses
have nothing to give. Their light
cannot be captured in jars. I have tried.
They will fade, vanish when a brighter
light breaks. And I will have to shield
my eyes and turn away.