Being, Invincibly Poem by Patti Masterman

Now shines the last star arising
before skyfall is done.

Every pin-point, distinct lamp burns,
its starry footprint visible for miles
(And those that guide the dawn)
You tell yourself

Other stars you're seeing, many miles above
are the same storied stars seen
before the first lamps were lit,
there even before books existed;
this is how the night-time scribbles its bright, wandering cyphers
across the blue template
evening brings, behind ambered curtains.

Glassy shards of starlight
cached like lightning bolts at well-bottoms
and when that dusky night opens
and reflects deeply into it,
pools light up that can scarcely reach the shimmering silence above
(Like the iris of god opening a shutter,
and old lovers are reborn
or some angel's work gets done)

Every tale of new worlds lies chambered within;
all the characters someday you'll become,
before you awaken shivering from your dreams
(as the day extinguishes the circumnavigating
rondels of darkness)
into the never-still pole star of being, invincibly.