The bricks in the courtyard
arrange the moonlight, as
a sky designs itself
overhead. It’s Spring and
these are nights when
light ideas drift in a
rush of black impressions.
To be alone in Spring
is like being removed
from the world. Once the
dark endless sky draws
us away, only the stars can
arouse our sense of hope.
We expect to be so agitated
by the void, that each pin
of light enables us to
glimpse the entire
spectrum of human joy.

When blackness takes hold, a
handful of stars begin to
shimmer, perfect except for
being dreamt too often, yet
attentive to the direct
questions that flash
the mind into the ozone.
The stars answer in years.
The time it takes to be
reflected, properly advised,
is a lifetime. We live for
those nights when, with that
whole sky of thought before
us, our minds allow us to
suddenly light up.