Three Dazzling Worlds
At night, the stars twinkle on high
Dancing in their world of lights
And soft, sighing songs.
The houses and the docks and ships
In the distance.
Only a memory.
The stars
The lights of another world.
One you can never touch
But still reach for
Running and jumping towards it
Like you might with your own town in the distance
But never close the distance at all.
An upside-down world.
A reflection.
Buried deep above.
Perhaps where the gods dwell.
But if they leave,
Then how do they get back?
The moon rises over the opposite end of the world
Arcing up and up
Dimming the shine of the stars.
The navigators trace
Stories in the shapes.
But they do not listen to the songs of the night.
In the lights of the town
You trace shapes from fire to fire, too.
A cat curls by the trees.
A ship sails by the port.
What stories do they find
In the lights of this place,
The people who live in the world above?
Do they lie on their backs on the cool ground
And wonder at the red in the flames,
The yellow of the crackling lights
Wonder if the ship they saw was a painting
Of a great hero’s ride?
Or maybe
They had their own world,
A world without ships
Or the sea
Or any of the songs
You know.
A world without swords
Or iron
Or even flowers in the fields.
A world of dark
and black
and cool light winking
and sparkling.
Glittering.
No red sun
But rather a white moon.
The waves roll and crash,
Singing their song.
The gaping abyss is there, too.
Somewhere that lights do not wink or reach.
Another world.
But which side,
Which world,
Is the right one?
Which is the best to live and see?
Is that why the gods leave?
Or was it why they never came?
