Voices fall from the night sky, a chorale
of invisible comets disguised as bone and wax,
splashing over the landscape, hopeful
as sleeping seeds windblown into creation's chaos,
searching eyes balanced between luck
and inevitability. Nursing a tender center
desperate for escape, it flings itself outward,
buoyant for one more day.
If you listen it becomes a song,
joyful as a fresh-cracked day,
bare fingers reaching for gold,
shining in starlight, a flurry of genius.
The closer it gets, the further it flies —
sweat til it’s done,
til the cosmos opens wide its arms.
I’m sharing this poem with dVerse Poetry Pub for their Open Link Night. It was originally published in MORIA , the literary magazine of Woodbury University in Los Angeles in 2019. In 2020 it was reprinted in Flash Frontier, a literary magazine based in New Zealand. Thanks to both zines for accepting this poem. Please visit dVerse for wonderful poetry reading. 😊