In the quiet communion of night,
stars of clarity softly indite their secrets—
their arcane scriptures scribbled on the sky,
a stippling brilliance.
No mere distant glimmers of cosmic routine,
but beacons born from the remnants
of exploding suns.
Each pinpoint narrates a history of listening memory,
this temple of immensity, an empyrean reliquary,
an occult bibliography etched in runes,
and echoes of astrogeny.
No accident of arrangement in the starscape,
they are sparks of theurgical gnosis,
they are distant witnesses of existence,
they are galactic philosophers, in silent discourse.
Penned in the language of shimmering specks,
each light a fading verse of revelation,
a coven of supernal sorceresses whispering,
incantations, recasting spells,
with each spectral spin.
As alchemical scribe on astral parchment,
aging light every night rewrites its sigils,
across a bedarkened palimpsest of constellations,
in the cryptic sentiment of stars.
Not simple, distant luminaries, but ancient,
druids of the cosmos, guardians of the metaphysical
lexicon of universal wisdom, their radiant mystical linguistics,
spoken in the silent tongue of cosmic seers.
In the sacred nocturnal assembly,
stars of clarity beckon, Orion and Cygnus,
extend your senses toward the ether,
take in the eldritch rays of discernment,
written in light upon the stellar grimoire.
Jaymee Thomas is a writer, poet, and programmer from Columbus, Ohio. She writes poetry, literary nonfiction, and popular fiction with several publications including Spectrum magazine and the Wittenberg Review of Art & Literature. She is most interested in how language plays at the intersection of reality, imagination, and mythmaking.
Commentaires