Steadfast

Now far from those harsh lights and the glare over cities,
     alone
By a clearing in the forest, we lie down
For the first time in our lives
Together under stars
And, keeping the earth in its place behind our backs, we         
     stare
Upward into the ancient stream of starlight
Whose current, though it appears 
To falter, to waver,
Has made its way to our eyes through barely imaginable
Down-curved ravines of space to dazzle us
With its streamers and wildfires,
Its ice-laden glitter,
The unconstellated burning rubble of godlings, outcast
And spilled from the zodiac and constantly falling
As they have always fallen
Even before eyes turned
To wonder and will go on falling whether we stay to watch
Or soon give back our small share of the spectrum
To the oldest of nights, to the expansive 
Gestures of a universe
We share so pointedly: some (see there) bloomed long ago
And dimmed, yet shine through lifetimes without a source,
With no beginning left
Behind them now
To begin with, but only an ever-shortening reach of glory
That flickers in darkness. All will consume themselves
And be reborn, as we are
Here, having followed
Their example, love, as fixed and erring and fair and
     steadfast,
Not star-crossed yet, but truly catching them
As they slant to us past hemlocks, as rich
And clear as out silence.


By Starlight, by David Wagoner


It was cold under the covers last night, and I had to get up and put some socks on to get to sleep. The day started overcast, with some heavy rain. By late afternoon the heaviest clouds blew out to sea and the sun came back. Looking forward to herself arriving back safely as well.