The Seafarer's Diary; Berceuse: #6 Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

The stars are hoisted
Upon the picturesque azure
And they twine
To craft constellations
That I’ve no claim
Over monikers
Or sobriquets.

They speak to me
One by one:
A vague scintillation,
A language that is obscure.
This night is sculpted
Into a day despite the furlough
Of the kingly Sun.

The sea – I’ve zilch care.
The zephyr blows,
And asks me an inquiry
Of make-believe
A fictional travail -
A superlative travesty.

Do you believe in
Fables, young seafarer?
The night’s hysteria
Is latticed to my being.
And as a salutation,
I nodded as the stars
Are extinguished
One by one.

In this expanse,
From the far-fetched gardens,
I can hear a siren
Singing her allure:
A splendid symphony,
An unchained wail.
An arbitrary opus.

I am swoon over
As the sea is muted
And the waves
Are sent to abeyance.