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The Familiar Pattern
We are just the
stars and scars in ancient skies
whose presence reveals the
lie that form and
function is not beauty,
myth and astronomy duly
offer a window into time
and govern our daily lives.
Eons ago the stars have died,
yet they rise each night
anew,
just the past within
our present, the ever emerging
resin that slowly seals
together each piece of our
uncertain history
as we gather up the fragments
and sew the stars
back into a pattern that
increases in familiarity
throughout our existence.
And their sky looked like our own.
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