Mather Campground Blessings
all these little red fires
dotting the campground
sending smoke and heat and resin
into the night sky
all these cold white fiery points
glistening down from the black night
so many suns in our far-flung galaxy
a sea of milky possibilities
I’m seized by the profound joy of being here
on a by-and-large hospitable
(even in these uncertain disaster-prone days)
planet
thank you combustion
radiation
equilibrium
fire and night
postcard to the sun
heart to sun
its fire heating my core
I warm to what’s star in me
consumed, consuming
thinning into flares that sometimes
destroy the neighborhood
Orionids: Lake Poso
on the dock
in the dark
I stretch out long
let the robe of stars
fall over me in folds
without seeking
I find him
the Hunter
a midnight visitor
from the familiar north
here out over the black lake
he’s different
not just a belt and shoulders
his features finally fully come into view
and for the first time
his bow is plain
clutched in his left hand
aimed over the water
before I can settle in
he fires a long streak across the sky
bright enough a trail of light lingers
I wait what feels like a long time
but the sky stays still
thankful for being at the right place
at the right time
for that one volley
I stand to leave
get my bearings on the railingless dock
then search the sky one last time
but fail to find his form
wondering was it dreamwork
a trick of the watery air
I turn back to shore
and he greets me again
of course:
prone, I realize,
I craned my neck
and found him there behind me
everything’s just as it should be –
pure magic
