These evenings Venus blazes like a bright lamp in the Western sky, while high in the North-East Arcturus glows red like an ember far out from the tail of the Plough. There are other patterns in the sky, but these are the ones I can see from my vantage points in the night, and the ones that mark an arc of significance across the skyscape.
I watch Venus sink behind a hill where I know the sea stretches out to the West. But Arcturus remains high above. The planet moves through the night and is gone. The star moves too, but slowly and seems to remain. I know where each of them are, night after night, even when there is cloud. But only for now. Venus will eventually be absent, then re-appear in the East before dawn. Arcturus will fade in the summer nights. Things change.
Or appear to affect us differently. Bright lights will fade, diffuse, or be extinguished. The world will have changed. Yet it will be the same. Journeys through or beyond the world will have been made. Identities transformed. Recognitions lost. Though nothing is lost. New things found. Though they were never lost.
May all your lights continue to shine brightly and those that go out remain bright in memory.
Many layers of meaning in this... very powerful last lines.
ReplyDeleteThe eloquence of your posts remain top notch, your word-craft at its highest is like a bubbling cloud steaming from an alchemist's alembic. Maybe the stars that you can see echo the hint of sadness of quarantine? The pondering nature of the second portion, what sounds like a man smoothing out an inward, philosophical truth for himself might underscore that theme.
ReplyDeleteThere isn't much I can do but stand back and admire it; if I can say one thing at all, it would be that I wish the imagery and word choice were more boldly adventurous, in tune with some of your previous recent work. But it was a joy to read, no question!