THE GRAVITY OF GALAXIES (Walking Bella)

Alone and Sleepless I wander, the moon, not full
reflects a thousand dew drop’s, that like summer glow worms
inch along winters leafless branches, bowed by their weight,
until the branch that carried them, that saw them grow with time
and gravity to its end bends, to see them fall to a hostile world,
devoured to feed the greed of tree and life and stop me still
at their silent passing.

Dead still, dead cold, nothing stirs above.
Below, a deep grey mist masks the valley
the fortress has guarded these twelve hundred years
and now me, these long - twelve month’s past
my sanctuary, my salvation, on foreign soil.

And dark, in deep moon shadow the far slope and further distant still,
shimmering white, levitating above the ridge ghostly
flutter the mountain’s mass, a snowy silhouette, gossamer tissue
against a moonlit sky, there for me to see this night with light
bent by the gravity of galaxies, traveled, not just my three score years
to be here, at this place, at this moment - in time?