when the world was flat
and we were few,
we looked at stars
and made them gods

to help explain the difficult truths,
to give us some measure of understanding to those concepts
to large to be held within our hands.
to find beauty in desperate times
to watch over us...

now the world is round
and we are many
most can no longer see the stars
we look to the internet to explain truth
and concepts seem to be shrinking,
to the size of a tablet screen.
times are becoming more desperate
and we watch each other...

yet the stars are there still.
behind the smog,
beyond the city lights
they hold their sentinels gaze
their beauty is undiminished.

they,for the most part are
still enigmatic, a mystery,
to be unfolded.
and we,
for all our advancement
and trappings
are still looking up....
seeking but not truly finding.

what it is not...
forgiving or kind,
patient with time.
gentleness to the weary soul.

whilst it does allow smiles,
they are mostly,
of the wry
or pitying kind.

again,
whilst it gives,
much time for contemplation, rumination and wistful
and regretful dreaming
but in doing so
it often, so often, takes,
more than it gives.

it is not a gentle kitten.
more of a savage jungle beast,
ravaging not just you,
but your village too...

it does not respect,
station or situation...

yet sometimes,
it gives you an almighty fright.
taking hold and shaking
your ragdoll life.
only to let you go...
scarred,
but not defeated.

at other times...
it stalks you
through the years.

it is not necessarily
a death sentence,
but often so.

what it is,
is a puzzle to unravel
what it is,
is, in need of the best
minds in order to
bring about solutions

what it is,
is, small and large donations
required to change
the future of us all

what it is
is... cancer....
and given time
it can be cured.

Some day
I'll flirt with Andromeda
staying just beyond
the length of her chains
take a hard right
at Orion's belt
insinuate myself
around Draco's tail
and join my clan
of Ursans
who no longer
point northward
on my passage
through
to my next edition.

to whittle away
the extraneous, slough off
dead skin which hides the
one who will not force a change,
not compress, contort a soul

Too late for farm living;
must tend to my sustenance
in the spare bedroom.

The dawn dipped red the morning light,
Calling forth thundering spring just like
An ocean of storming clouds.

It cracked the sky's black heart.

The large eye socket of Thor
Stretched in gnarled greys,
Tailored in the howling winds,
Clawing the earth in Titan strength-
Drenched the ground in flooding tears.