On Rejection of the Cosmic Law
I imagined a glorious Constellation,
framed by a Northern Light and a Moon.
How wide-eyed of me, gullible and impulsive,
to think those three would align so perfectly.
The Constellation and her Luna, nestle on the Earth's ceiling,
turning their backs on a racing Aurora
once filled with light.
they must have felt she belonged hidden away in a floral forest,
dancing through trees with her barely luminescent streams.
Far away from the nocturnal Glimmer that guides the all knowing Gleam
to an altar.
Nestled away in wild violets and redwood trees,
Aurora dreams of a memory.
She's back swaying colorfully on a celestial pebbled path.
Accompanied by a burning orange bulb she knew too well.
The sphere says: "I'll see you later.
Love you a million" and dissipates from her side.
Upon waking,
our Northern Light is alone once more,
with memories of what used to be.
Can someone finally tell the moon and constellation why
Their isolation was held so tightly?
All in white, as a last goodbye is sung out
towards a light.
Now back in this forest, cast away and completely
alone, she will be free.
To swim in her own light.
To plant sweet memories among the violets
and dance with the redwood trees.
No Galaxy or Moon can dim her with their false altar.
