Birthed with a bang, the fiery star glimmers and sings, diffusing light.
Pushed by cosmic winds, she shimmers round planetary rings, fusing light
with sound—cosmic energy unbound. There’s no refusing light,
in the night, reaching here in twinkling echoes—just so—cruising light
for travelers on land and sea. They cherish keen perusing light
to read a map or talk at night—that gleam seen, call it, schmoozing light
for tall tales. And for lovers’ wild embraces, it’s never bruising light
illuminating what can, might, or will be—so always and ever choosing light
instead of darkness, hope instead of fear. I laugh at this amusing light
that drifts from space. Merril-ly, I watch it, inspired, yes, it’s musing light.
I wrote this ghazal for something that didn’t work out (for me), but I saw the stars early this morning, and thought of it. I’m angry every time I read or hear the news. The horror inhabiting the White House, the people who enable and support his policy of hate and fake news–and the silencing of those who try to tell the truth–all this awfulness and people going blindly along with it just gets so overwhelming. So this. Stars and choosing light. I’m linking this to dVerse’s Open Link Night (the next morning edition.) 🙂