Ode to Stars

I saw the stars
in their sky
on a cloudless night.
I’m sure
you
think I dreamed it
but
they speak,
the stars speak, the light
in the night,
they speak
through a soft whisper
in the wind.
I marveled at those angelic
voices
when I heard
the call
of the stars
from the field.
Near Cassiopeia
the whole
universe
chats:
they have
multiply
speakers,
a conversation
of myth.
Then in their own sky
twinkle light, the cosmos
of undiscovered wonder,
the plane where time travels,
gems in space, forgotten
by the metropolis.

And then out every window
in this world,
stars,
your pale
glow
casting out
the mystical miracle
over
our world.
Directors
of voyages
of the earliest ships.
you are
a resident
of the heavens,
subject
of the first
to explain the unknown, stories opening
paths to the imagination.
Dust in the sky, the eyes
conceive new form
in the night sky from you:
sight identifies
pieces of the universe in each glimmer,
and thus the dimmest,
the faintest,
radiance of the star
brings to us
not only the infinite
but our own inner self.