The Secrets of the Night Sky.

the moon told me, that it was quite
easy – to count yourself lost among
all of the dazzling stars, even if you
can see them scarcely. for humanly
trained eyes, at the rustle-sensitive
time of night, stars are but balls of
dotted sidekicks – created only for
chaperoning – a dependent, dutiful
presence, whose existence counts
on the very being of an oft-phasing
moon, the only one who knows, the
burden she carries off her craters
is no bigger. her pits and her heavy
scars go no deeper. than theirs. she

she weeps for the realisation that
strikes about her withdrawal from
what could have been her solitary
chance at a family. she weeps in
the day and refuses to show, even
though she cannot be seen – she
knows, but she cannot bring her
self to see as well. at night, having
no choice she stands askew, odd,
quite still, mind you – just enough
to avert her eyes from her mother
– the earth, who she left without
cause or explanation, unable now
to return, unable still to provide
reason, able only to close the gap
she so wistfully breathes in – but
never fully. able only to reach a
pretense of a motherly embrace
when she smells the sweet air of
the balmy tulip farm. able to feel
undead inside only when heads
of dandelions send tufts of hair
soaring to her, as if a love-laced
telling-off for taking days to open
up, in phases, after a particularly
bad blackout & now prays, hopes
to let a neutron star collision take
her away – better to have none of
the distance existing than having
aching wounds that never close.

with sun-dazed lips and clouded
vision, the earth still looks for her
long-lost child – the unbound soul,
who disappeared from the field of
light not even at a bare moment’s
notice. she feels her warmth in the
frost of the night – she feels the icy
bitterness too. little does her child
know, the sprightly heads floating
are her longings tied on top with
cravings of her even though she is
aware she will not be coming back.
a mother knows not when her nest
becomes empty, but does know till
when it will remain so. and the sun
like yellow flora carries the hushed
hopes of hitherto unacknowledged
heroes. but little do either mother
or daughter know –

dandelions have secrets, too.


It is said that the moon was created from an impact between the Earth and another celestial body. This poem explores the relationship between the mother Earth and her long-lost daughter, the Moon. I clearly have a thing for making up potentially nonexistent relationships between elements of nature.

2 Replies to “The Secrets of the Night Sky.”

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