The Starcatcher
A poetic interpretation of the work done
by labies during midnight watch. Dedicated to Jess.
Lend your ear
to me awhile, child,
indulge my
rhyme and story’s bite
and I will tell
you where the stars doth
lay aground to
rest in their endless
trek across the
universe. Then, knowing
where they nest
before mounting sky again,
you shall
capture one and hold it,
still shining
in your palm as cool fire.
First you must
fly far from men’s habitation,
beyond the
deserts traveled by caravans,
and into ocean
depths rarely crossed
by wood with
sail guided, where no city
of man has
risen or shall rise to startle
Heaven’s light.
Only ship worthy of the sea
disturbs this
place of miracles, where
the sky dances
with the waters below.
As the vessel
plows amidst sleeping stars,
they start with
bright but tired spark, that
fades again
into the foam with twinkle
and then dark.
From above at every
minute a gem
descends, falling from
the scales of
heaven or Cassiopeia’s
crooked throne[1],
washing in the cool waves
the stardust.
Once a while at horizon
the lucky one
will spy a star flick and fly
from Earth’s
edge in burning splendor
to rejoin her
sisters in the wheeling sky.
In this froth
of otherworldly life
things
inanimate move with shadow
of the living,
blind eye rejoins sight
in darkness,
and heart heals from
unseen wounds.
The air here is suffused
with the Spirit
of God, and all that
is coated with
the salt of sea is made holy.
Here then, take
not sandals off[2]
but
hats, before
you dip your net[3]
to reap
heaven’s
harvest. Toss, o child, there
the net, and
see it fly through the waters,
assume an
ethereal glow, fill with living soul
that snakes and
flows alongside vessel.
The stars
quicken the fibers with their
touch, and are
for instant like the breath
of God as they
bump and gather at cod end.[4]
Once done,
hoist the catch into bucket,
care for them
with salty bath, mix them
into vortex
like a small galaxy, then
behold the
constellations they draw,
which speak of
destiny, far and future things.
Come well
prepared with prayer and
blessing, for
these are flowers of God’s
garden, and if
gilded with goodwill and
starlight, made
precious by supplication
to Christ, they
are as sure as sunrise to happen,
if you test not
with prayer for sunrise in the West.
Child, then you
shall join the angels and
the saints, the
starcatchers of the cosmic ocean
the elite
legion of God admitted yet
whole and
living into the Creator’s presence.
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