"shepherding" poems - Hello Poetry

They called me Pluto from afar, and I, Nameless and void, embraced the title With the force of a thousand burning suns, Each one like the star I loved ever so dearly, An immense sphere of fire which had me Helplessly, hopelessly bound by its gravity, Caught in its orbit from the beginning of time. They called me Pluto still from further still, Speaking my name as the orbit of myself And their water world drove us apart, And I gladly, worshipfully rejoiced – I had a name; I was no longer void. I was distant still, but they called me Pluto, And I wore my name like regalia, A crown upon my lifeless skin. They called me Pluto still as they Waded further from the cosmic shore That was their home, sending probes That touched the regolith of Mars – There was life, and light, spreading out from Planet Earth, So I waited, hoping they’d come for me Sooner rather than later, tomorrow and not two centuries from now. They called me Pluto even as they stripped me of my name – I was ‘planet’ no longer, And I grew colder and bitterer as I spun, Because I knew things they did not, Things about the rise and fall of civilizations. They did not see what I had seen, They had not been watching Since the dawn-time. They called me Pluto, And they cried my name As I watched them burn, The light of the flickering candle in the dark That had once been humankind Flaring, more luminous than the sun for one bright, shining moment, Then fading. They called me Pluto in the aftermath, As if I were the God of the underworld, Guarding their lost souls from my far-off perch, Shepherding that which could not be led, But I was not their God, even if I’d once fathomed them as mine. So here I wait, patient, eternal, void and barren, For them to leave me lonely when they no longer Dare to speak my name from the realm I am the supposed guardian of; They called me Pluto.

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Jun 26, 2016

Jun 26, 2016 at 7:46 AM UTC

caitlin-cacciatore

They Called Me Pluto

They called me Pluto from afar, and I, Nameless and void, embraced the title With the force of a thousand burning suns, Each one like the star I loved ever so dearly, An immense sphere of fire which had me Helplessly, hopelessly bound by its gravity, Caught in its orbit from the beginning of time. They called me Pluto still from further still, Speaking my name as the orbit of myself And their water world drove us apart, And I gladly, worshipfully rejoiced – I had a name; I was no longer void. I was distant still, but they called me Pluto, And I wore my name like regalia, A crown upon my lifeless skin. They called me Pluto still as they Waded further from the cosmic shore That was their home, sending probes That touched the regolith of Mars – There was life, and light, spreading out from Planet Earth, So I waited, hoping they’d come for me Sooner rather than later, tomorrow and not two centuries from now. They called me Pluto even as they stripped me of my name – I was ‘planet’ no longer, And I grew colder and bitterer as I spun, Because I knew things they did not, Things about the rise and fall of civilizations. They did not see what I had seen, They had not been watching Since the dawn-time. They called me Pluto, And they cried my name As I watched them burn, The light of the flickering candle in the dark That had once been humankind Flaring, more luminous than the sun for one bright, shining moment, Then fading. They called me Pluto in the aftermath, As if I were the God of the underworld, Guarding their lost souls from my far-off perch, Shepherding that which could not be led, But I was not their God, even if I’d once fathomed them as mine. So here I wait, patient, eternal, void and barren, For them to leave me lonely when they no longer Dare to speak my name from the realm I am the supposed guardian of; They called me Pluto.