Seekers of the Stars...A Poem
Some few emerge from the sacred flame,
move beyond groping cave grunters
to arch their necks in nightward gaze
at the chance-strewn glitter high above.
What are they, these stars, to near apes?
How do hairy hearts and icy stars
combine to sing the siren song
of primeval divinity,
the first faint stirring of some thing
beyond belly-hunger, throat-thirst,
the lust of hunt and war,
the flame in the gonads?
Through cool desert dark, timeless tread
purple silhouettes humped foot to padded foot
with warm-sand, blue-shadow brethren,
etched by the diamond-brilliant,
star-drilled Arabian night.
Steaming dung and ruptured sand
mark their way...herdsman,
camel driver, lover,
poet, astronomer...
impaled by the stars'
unrelenting daggers of eon-thrusting light
withdrawn again through each star source
to pierce the utter core of eternity
and the fiery heart of God.
Before the temple built on holy mount,
before the voice of gods in sacred groves,
before philosophy, philosophy...
there was the sea, the stars and silent Greeks
to pattern random particles of light
after robust constructions of myth,
the sun and shadow of the Aegean soul.
Perseus eternally saves sweet Andromeda
from the leviathan beneath the waves;
vast Hercules thwarts the timeless
advance of monstrous Draco;
the great square of Pegasus forever soars
through velvet fields of night.
I think the stars shone brighter then
when blood still coursed through veins
of ancient Arab, ape and Greek.
Copyright by Don Gray
Don Gray Art • Poems