Eclipse, slow, breathless, silent
even the sparrows are silent, the cat
pauses, round eyed like a statue of Bast,
listening, The Sun
the Sun is disappearing:
the Great Dragon, or warring Gods
are eating the Sun. Shades of distant
Ancestors watch in terror among their offerings,
their chanted prayers. But we just stop,
pause to watch with awe, and unspoken, primal fear
a great celestial event.
And then slowly
shadows of crescent suns appear on the pavement,
flickering like silver coins
announcing the return
of the generous, triumphant Sun.
At night, quiet still remains, the Stars appear,
singing their songs of magnitude, of suns
birthing and dying on the black canvas of time,
On the ground, crescent shadows seem to linger.
April 8, 2024
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