Woe to the being
in its brilliance ever illuminating,
ever since it was brought out to this world
full of wonders
—you might’ve thought as such, at first—
to your initial senses
just born into the earth.
Stellar you are, and they regarded you such at first,
but considered as a constellation baffling,
soon after, thus celestial, irritating
to their perception
—belonging to none
of the earth; heathen you’ve been,
and so that’s why, I see,
you’re deemed a heretic.
Looking around,
you walk on the heaven’s arc
painted in all its auroral glory,
wondering,
ever yearning
for the only answer they might give you someday:
to which stars
the people of the earth
give their praises so pristine.
(C) Copyright: Saul Bae (Sungmoo Bae)
