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Poetry — Ruminations on a celestial temple
filtered earthlight shatters into fragments of celestial dust
that coats the untrod floor of the dissolute temple
a cracked stone bust of Athena carved in secret passion
protects against unwelcome meteoroids
there are no living visitors, so no breaths disturb the peace
of the unliving stone and the darkness that feels alive
the cracked bust is the only item with a personality
that challenges the sterility of space
where the quiet is louder than sound
and time is measured in shadows and light
nestled in a ridged Moon crater like a forgotten freckle
the temple is not even visited by traveling comets or blinking stars
yet it stands guard all the same
a hollow-eyed statue listening to the whispers of the universe
no one will ever hear
and all the vibrations no one will ever feel
