Tripping on Curbs

“…shimmering through the leaves and out beyond the black lines of her neighbors’ chimney pots were the stars, beacons whose light left them long before there were eyes on this planet to receive it…” — archeologist Jacquetta Hawkes

milky way

we who live in deep space and trip
on curbs looking up at stars bound in a mesh 
of interstices of lightyears through which 
seas of breath and blood pass, 
in which muscles are bound by mystic ligaments
to armatures of bone . . .
we’re always mystified by what seems a 
phenomenal disconnect, yet
mindsparks shine here and there, 
filaments of personal matter,
electric turns of tissue and dreams,
tiny conscious blips to which 
oldest light comes, goes, scatters
and everything is it,
so it may not matter 
if shimmering it
will or will not 
ever shatter


Jim Culleny